


Foolish Games

by orphan_account



Category: Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-11-12 23:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 37,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even when you're down so far, when you feel it is impossible to heal, there will always be that one person to build you back up. How Peeta and Katniss grew back together after returning to District 12. Explicit for later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I make my way down the stairs of my Victor's Village home, my hair in a braid from the day before and a tank top with pajama shorts. It has been a good two weeks since I saw Peeta planting the Primroses, but I haven't spoken to him since, though he still always had bread on the table when Greasy Sae came to cook. I felt bad, ignoring him like this, but I just couldn't bring myself to go over and knock on his door.

This is what causes my surprise when I see him at the kitchen table, talking quietly with Greasy Sae, her granddaughter sitting next to Peeta and munching on a piece of bacon. I am now hesitant to go over to the table, unsure of what to say to him. I had practically shut the door in his face last time he came around, and hadn't thanked him for his thoughtfulness, either. And with his flashbacks, I'm not sure if he's still comfortable around me just yet.

But if he wasn't, he wouldn't be here, right?

"Katniss?"

I'm shaken from my thoughts, looking up to see clear blue eyes staring into my own gray ones. I form his name on my lips, but nothing comes out, at least not right away. I clear my throat and try again, glancing to the other two at the table before moving my gaze back to him, though not gazing in his eyes as I was before. "Peeta."

He offers a small smile and motions toward one of the chairs with a nod of his head, a plate already set in front of it.

I try to smile back, though I'm sure he can see through it. He could always read me so well, and I'm too tired to try and cover it up. "Thanks." I glance toward Greasy Sae when I say this, and then to Peeta; he surely had part in the breakfast as well, and I didn't want to make anything worse with him.

Sae and Peeta continue their conversation while I feed my bacon to Buttercup, knowing they won't force me into conversation; at least, not yet. I could see Peeta fidget slightly out of the corner of my eye, and I'm certain he was nervous being in my company, just as I feel at the moment. He was just better at hiding it, but I know. All of the times we had spent together before the rebellion, we were bound to pick up on each other's habits and hidden emotions.

Before I know it, breakfast is over and Greasy Sae is leaving; due to my lack of attention, I'm not sure why; she usually stayed around to help with the dishes. When I take in what's around me, I see Peeta starting to grab the dishes and going over to the sink. So that's why.

"You done?"

I look up, Peeta standing over me with his hand reached out toward my plate. I look down at the uneaten contents and then back up to him, nodding. "Yeah."

He takes it wordlessly and moves toward the sink, me staring at his back as I watch the way his scapula bones moved with his arms. A moment passes before I realize that I am sitting in my own house, allowing my guest to do all of the work. "Um…I'll take it from here, Peeta." I stand up and hurry over to the sink, taking the plate he has out of his hand.

He glances over at me, not moving, and then nods. "All right…I'll see you tomorrow, then." He walks out wordlessly, and I can't tell if he feels rejected or relieved.

I'm not even sure what I feel.

I finish the dishes up quickly, figuring I should go hunting; it's been a couple days and I was running low on meat, and also needed to get some to Sae.

I wipe my hand on a towel hanging from the cupboard below the sink and make my way up the stairs, almost stepping on Buttercup on the way up. I was surprised when he didn't hiss at me.

The forest is quieter than usual, and I plague it on the darkening sky – it was most likely going to rain. I was most likely going to spend most of my day out here, anyway, and I know that Sae likes squirrel just fine. I tread carefully through the woods, as normal, and am able to catch a few before heading back out, now not having to crawl under a partially-faux electric fence.

"Hey, girl."

I smile to Greasy Sae as I walk into her place in the hob, it already halfway rebuilt, and hand over the squirrels. "All I could catch for now. All animals are in."

She nods, though I already knew she wouldn't complain. "Good as anything." She turns her back to me as she goes to preserve the meat. "Would you like to stay for some dinner? I can try my hand at some squirrel stew."

The food sounded tempting, but I declined. I still was not ready to be in town for too long; I still refused to move farther than here. "I need some alcohol for Haymitch, though."

Ripper was caught in the bombings, and Haymitch was getting anxious and bitter with the lack of alcohol. After a particularly rough day, Sae promised to keep some stashed to sell. She was so good to all of us, too good. I don't know why she bothers; it's not like I deserve it, or Haymitch. Peeta, maybe. He's always been better than us.

She nodded and pulled out a bottle of white liquor from a cupboard near her. Though she tries to refuse, I give her money in exchange for the liquor and head out the door, keeping my line of sight straight as I tried not to think about the death around me; not think about how tainted the ground was that I walked on.

"Haymitch?" The door was unlocked, as always, so I let myself in, already figuring he was passed out somewhere in the house. I'm surprised when I hear him answer back. I wander into the kitchen and see him sitting at the table, his fingers on his temples, as if warding off a headache.

"What d'you need, sweetheart?" His words were cutting and bitter; nothing new.

I sigh and hold out the bottle. I roll my eyes when I see him grab for the bottle, not bothering to issue a thanks. Not that I expected it. I'm about to leave when he calls out to me.

"So, how's the boy doing?"

I tense up, but don't turn back around. "I don't know. I only just saw him this morning." Now I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, especially when a condescending cackle came out of him.

"C'mon, sweetheart, don't you remember our deal?"

I rush out of the house. Of course I remember our deal. Our deal to keep Peeta safe, and I also know that the deal stretched to the safety of his own mind, as well. I know I'm wrong to not make more of an effort, but I just can't.

I decide to go to bed early, the day taking a toll, even though it wasn't that eventful in reality. But I knew there was one reason for all of this. Peeta.

Why was it that he was always there, in the back of my mind?

I refuse to think about it. It's better to leave him be. Doesn't he realize that I'm not safe for him? That I'm poison?

All of these thoughts run through my head as I'm in the shower, so I make it quicker than usual and hope sleep will some easily. Of course it did not.

My mind finally started to drift off when I tried a game that Prim had taught me once, to help sleep.

I was suddenly in Prim's room, silently watching as she brushed her hair. She seemed so at peace, and it fills me with warmth.

Suddenly, each stroke is coming harsher, to the point where her scalp is bleeding. I watch as hair and pieces of skin began to peel off, blood running down her neck and over her back. I scream for her, but she never turns.

That's when she turns to dust.

The room is on fire now, and all I see is the skull of my little sister, lying on the chair she was once sat in. I could feel the flames engulf me and I scream, though I know no one hears me. Or if they do, they wouldn't come for me. Why would anyone want to save me, after all of the pain I caused?

I screamed as I sat up in bed, taking in my surroundings. All I saw were the outlines of the various furniture in the room, and the full moon outside my closed window. I felt my stomach churn and knew I'd need to rush to the bathroom.

While heaving at the base of the toilet, I couldn't help but wish Peeta was here with me.

FGTHG

The next morning when I go downstairs, I am not surprised to see Peeta, but I am surprised to not see Greasy Sae. I sit down at the table, a fresh loaf of bread in the middle. "Where's Sae?"

He doesn't glance my way, but focuses intently on his cooking in front of him, though he does not seem to do this to avoid me. More so just to cook. I am surprised at the sudden change from yesterday morning, but Peeta always did have an unpredictability about him; one of the things that causes my nerves to fray. "Said her granddaughter had the flu."

I nod, though he cannot see. There is a small plate in front of me which I figure is for the bread, so I grab a piece; it's cinnamon. I close my eyes and sigh as I eat it, wondering how the tension has lessened in such a short amount of time. Perhaps we needed the time yesterday to break it; simply allowing him into my home. Like a barrier that has fallen, and I am surprised to find how much I like it. The only person I really talk to is Sae and occasionally Haymitch, but he never was one for conversation – like me.

I glance up at him when I hear him turn off the stove, watching as he fills each plate with eggs and bacon. He comes over and puts a plate next to the one with bread, a small smile on his face. I attempt to smile up at him and then glance down at my plate. Okay, maybe there's still a little tension (at least, on my part). We sit in silence and eat, me still staring down at my plate.

"Do you want me to toast your bread? I'll get the butter and jam, too."

I look up at him through my eyelashes as he stands up, his eyes on me as he waits for my answer. My eyes widen slightly when I realize I still have not answered, and I nod once.

He answers with his own nod and that smile that seems to come easier to him now. My eyes follow his hand as he grabs a few slices of bread and puts them on a paper towel, then keep my gaze on the exact spot. I hear him take the toaster out of one of the cupboards – a Capitol contraption that came with the house. I'm lost in my thoughts when he sets a slice on my plate, placing the butter and jam on the table next to the bread with two butter knives.

My eyes slide up to him. I need to offer him something; after all, he's trying, so I owe him that much. Actually, I owe him a lot, but it's not something I want to think about at the moment. "Thanks." I actually manage to smile, my nerves calming slightly. Why am I so nervous?

He smiles and nods, then grabs the butter. I decide to work on my other food while I wait for him to finish, then butter my own bread. We drop into silence once again, but it's not as uncomfortable as before.

"I'm going into town later, if you want to come." He looks slightly nervous when he asks this, probably figuring I will decline. I have only been in town once since I've been back, if you don't count my going to get to the woods.

I take a minute to consider it, but decide I need to visit Sae anyway, perhaps offer up the rest of the bread if Peeta allows – which I know he will – to wish her granddaughter better. I just hope it will not be awkward, but I have a feeling we have gotten most of that out of the way. We have not been out together in public, though. What if people come and question us? That will surely undo all of this. I'm sure those romantic feelings he has felt for me for a large part of his life has dwindled considerably since the hijacking.

His hijacking. I have been too busy in my own self-pity to even consider how he is doing himself. In all honesty, he has lost more than me. Been through more, even if he wasn't the one that had to lead a rebellion. "Peeta?"

He looks up at me and raises an eyebrow, his mouth full.

I scratch the back of my neck, second-guessing myself. Would he really want to talk about it? Also, I don't want to provoke one. I decide to just come out with it. "How are you with…everything?"

"You mean the hijacking?" His face is blank, but I can see it is taking effort.

I bite my lip and nod, hoping I haven't crossed a line.

He sighs and looks down at his almost empty plate. "They're…better. I'm usually able to control them; catching them before it takes over." He still refuses to look at me.

I want him to look at; to feel comfortable. "That's really good, Peeta." I keep my gaze on him, then sigh. "I'm sorry." I'm not sure whether I'm talking about asking him about it, or for it happening to begin with.

He seems to take it as the former and looks up at me to give me a sad smile. "It's fine. You have a right to know."

Do I? I mean, I haven't really offered anything up, but he hasn't asked either. Would I talk about it if he asked, though? I notice that he has finished so I stand to take his plate, but he grabs it away. "I'll take care of the dishes, Katniss. You go shower and get dressed."

I stand there for a moment, not sure whether I should listen or not, but I decide I need a shower before I go. Judging by his apparel, he has already showered and gotten ready for the day. "All right. I'll be right back."

I keep my shower short and dress quickly into a pair of comfortable jean shorts and a gray tank top. I head back downstairs and find Peeta sitting down at the table, twiddling his thumbs. When he hears me come down the stairs and turns and smiles, jumping up.

"Ready?"

I nod and wrap up the rest of the bread, then walk over to him, letting him lead me to the door; he didn't mention me bringing it. The moment I step outside I hear Haymitch's geese squawking away and roaming freely over both of our yards, making me cringe. "You'd think the pen would be able to at least keep them contained."

Peeta snorts. "You'd think."

The rest of the walk is mostly quiet except for the sounds of his loud footsteps, which oddly soothes me. Once, our hands brush one another's, and I try my hardest to keep a blush from my cheeks. I have a feeling I didn't do a very good job, because he glanced my way with a hint of a smile on his face. Once we make it, I glance in the direction of Greasy Sae's house. "I was going to go give the rest of the bread to Sae." This is my silent request for approval, though I already know he'll agree.

He smiled and nods. "All right. I'm going to head over to the bakery; come find me after you're done over there." He hesitates for a moment, an unreadable look crossing his face, and then turns and walks farther into town.

I'm curious as to what that was, but I decide to let it slide. If he wants it to come out later, it'll come out. I start trekking to the outskirts of the town and toward where the Hob used to be, brightening at the sight of Sae's newly repaired home. It looks much better than it did before the rebellion, and I was surprised at how much had been accomplished in town since the last time I was in it. The closest I ever get to around here is when I go out to hunt, but I don't really pay attention, especially when I usually go closer toward morning time.

I walk up to her door and knock once before letting myself in; she still had a room for customers set up.

"Hey there, girl!"

I smile and walk over to the counter where Greasy Sae is stationed, taking a seat on one of the stools. "Hey. Just wanted to stop in and give you this." I hand over the bread, which she takes gratefully. "How's your granddaughter?"

The light in her eyes dimmed, but she keeps a small smile on her face. "She should be better in a couple of days. A bug's been getting around."

I nod, and we drop into silence. Even with Sae, I was never one for conversation. A few more minutes and I clear my throat, getting off of the stool. "Well, I promised Peeta I would meet him at the bakery, so…"

She smiles and nods. "Go on, then. Don't leave the boy waiting."

I bite my lip and nod once, turning and heading to the door, feeling slightly uncomfortable for an unknown reason. As I make my way back into town, I'm not surprised to see the streets filling with people, though my discomfort grows. Since I know my way to the bakery I keep my eyes down, sure that eyes are on me. Why wouldn't they be? I am just hoping not too many are filled with anger.

I let out a breath of relief when I reach the bakery, and when I lift my head I'm surprised at what's in front of me.

"Like it?" Peeta out the class door with a grin plastered on his face, holding it open for me.

Construction is still going on, mostly on the upstairs, but it was nothing compared to the sight when I came with Plutarch and the rest of my crew from 13. It almost seems brand new, and I feel a sense of pride for Peeta, but also a slight sorrow. Have I really been away from here for that long?

I go and sit down on a chair at the table closest to the counter. "It looks really nice, Peeta."

The smile is still on his face, and I can tell that he's pretty proud of his handiwork. "I think they would've liked it." Sadness crawled into his eyes, clouding them to a storming dark blue.

It takes me a minute, but I finally realize who he's talking about. His family. I hate to see his good mood spiral down, so I get up and walk over to him, hugging him on impulse. I already feel regret for being so forward, but I can't help feel a light flittering in my stomach.

I missed him.


	2. Chapter 2

When we get back to Victor's Village, Peeta excuses himself back to his house to do some baking. Before he leaves, he says he'll come over with dinner.

I miss his company already when I step into my own empty house, peeling away layers of clothing and sitting on the couch in the living room. The fire has long gone out from the night before, and I wonder what time it is – twelve o'clock. There is a small digital clock on the wall next to the television above the fireplace; I was happy these were digital, because I know I would go crazy if I heard ticking all the time. I shudder at the memories that pop into my head, and then shake my head to clear my thoughts.

I hear soft taps on the floor, no doubt from Buttercup. We still hate each other – always will – but pain seems to have bonded us in a way. I sigh and turn toward the little monster, when my breath catches in my throat.

There is that ugly orange cat with one of Prim's dolls in its mouth.

I want to scream and cry and throw the thing across the room. I lunge for the cat, who quickly jumps out of the way before I grab his tail and drag him back, pulling the doll out of his mouth. "You stupid cat! What are you doing?"

He hisses at me, and it makes me want to scream all the more. Can't he see what he's done? I look down at the sewn doll, one eye now popping off, and there is a stab of pain in my heart. I feel my face get red in anger, ready for another tirade at the cat – who is firmly standing its ground – but instead, I break into sobs. I lean back against the couch, clutching the doll in my hands, and I feel myself trembling.

Buttercup comes closer, this time mewing – it's like he knows when my tears are for Prim. I don't want his comfort though. This is his fault, that stupid thing. "Go away!" I lash out one hand and push him aside, an angry mew escaping as I bury my face back into my arms, the doll still tight in my grasp.

I don't know how long I sit here, but I know it has been a while when I feel strong arms wrap around my frail body. I let myself uncurl and bury my head in Peeta's chest, letting him pull the doll out of my hands. With my hands now free, I wrap them tightly around his waist, his shirt growing wet. He's silently running his fingers through my hair, and I feel him place a soft kiss on top of my head. It feels nice, and I am surprised to see that it helps calm me slightly.

"How about you lay down while I make dinner."

I allow him to help me up and wipe away the tears, but I shake my head. "No, I'll help," I say, with my voice cracking at the end. He simply nods, his eyes warm, and leads me to the kitchen. I suddenly feel embarrassed and defensive, hating that he has seen me in one of my moments of weakness. No doubt he has seen it before, but not since the hijacking.

"What do you want?" Peeta is over at the fridge, looking back at me with his hand on the stainless-steel handle.

I cross my arms and think through the items in my fridge. Greasy Sae has kept it stocked pretty well, considering how I have been acting since being back in twelve. "Whatever you feel like making. I'm not too picky."

He nods and I lean my back against the counter, both hands behind me to rest on the edges.

"How about some rabbit? I can make some sauce to sauté it in," he asks as he turns back toward me, the pack of rabbit in his hand.

I nod. "The rabbit will just go bad, anyway. It needs to be used up."

He nods back and sets it on the counter, then pulls out an assortment of vegetables for a side, then looks back at me. "I'm going to go to my house to get a few things for the sauce. I'll be right back."

"Okay." I watch him leave, and then turn to the vegetables. This seems easy enough for me to do. I take out some green beans and carrots, putting the rest back in the fridge. There is a bag of corn sitting by the sink, so I grab that to husk.

"Back!" he yells out as I hear the door close and heavy footsteps nearing the kitchen.

I look up and smile, seeing that he already has a plastic bag put together with whatever ingredients he has chosen. He walks back over to the meat and pulls out all that's in there, throwing it in the bag and setting it aside.

"It needs to set for a bit – probably not as long as it should, so we can start on the corn." He opens some cupboards and pulls out a large pot, surprising me at how well he knows his way around me kitchen; better than I do, but I don't do much cooking, anyway. He smiles sheepishly as he fills it with water. "I've fished my way around the kitchen to get an idea. Makes things easier."

I nod and look down at the remaining corn, putting it back in the bag. "That's all right. You're more useful in the kitchen, anyway." I cringe at how that sounded.

He laughs and nods. "I'd make a good housewife, wouldn't I?"

I smile and turn my head slightly away to disguise my blush at the thought of marriage to him.

We cook in silence, grilling the meat and vegetables, and then fill our plates with a good amount, still having leftovers. When we are sat at the table, he speaks up, "we should bring the leftovers to Haymitch. I doubt he has dinner in mind."

I smirk and nod. "He drinks his dinner."

More silence, until he speaks up again, looking over my shoulder and into the living room. "Hey, I remember that."

I look behind me. "What?"

"The plant book. I painted in it."

I can tell he's happy for keeping this memory, so I nod with a smile. "Yeah." This reminds me of a small idea that was in the back of my mind, though I wasn't going to bring it up since I'm sure he'll reject. "I was…thinking."

He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to continue.

I clear my throat and look back toward the book. "We should make another book like that, but instead of plants, fill it with the people we've lost. To keep down everything we remember so we never forget." I look back to him, his eyes far away and I think I did the wrong thing, until a small smile appears on his face.

"That sounds nice."

We don't speak again throughout dinner and when we wash the dishes, Peeta fixing up a plate to give to Haymitch.

"I can go to the store to pick up some supplies while you give that to Haymitch." I nod toward the plate.

He shakes his head. "I'll just go over to give this to him and the we can go togeth-"

"No, it's all right. I can go get it so you can keep Haymitch some company. I'll come get you when I get back." I can see his reluctance, but he finally nods and leaves. After the door closes behind me, I grab my boots and pull them on, walking out the door and going into town for the second time in one day. I can't help but feel surprised at myself, and wonder how this has all of the sudden gotten so easy. Maybe it was just because of the quick trip this morning, enough to show me that I can make it through without an incident as long as I keep my head down. I don't want to deal with the stares, not knowing what's going through everyone's heads.

The walk was shorter than I remember and once I get into town, I go straight to the newest store put in town; a convenience store, I think it was called. It's small, but it has a lot of things district twelve has never been used to. I walk through the door and am overwhelmed by the varieties, not sure where to start.

"May I hel-"

I turn toward a girl I don't recognize, with a nametag attached to her shirt. Lillian is her name. She's looking at me with big eyes. Oh no, I think, she's not from district twelve. Anyone that didn't know me before the reaping, or at least had heard of me throughout the district, still treated me like a celebrity, and judging by the pink tint in her skin, she was a Capitol native; I'm guessing to catch a glimpse of the Mockingjay.

"Katniss Everdeen. I-it's really nice to meet you." She's wearing a large smile as she says this, and I'm not sure if the look in her eyes is starstruck or afraid. I'm guessing a combination of both. All of the sudden, all I want to do is get out of there.

"I'm just looking for some paper." As much as I want to get away from this woman, I need supplies. My stomach is starting to hurt, and I'm really starting to regret all that food I had for dinner.

"This way." She trips over herself, righting herself quickly with a blush.

I hide a sigh as I follow, swallowing the bile threatening to rise. This is why I never go into town, I remind myself. I should have brought Peeta with me; perhaps she'd be too caught up in him to really notice me. Most girls were.

"Here it is!" She's pointing to the different varieties of paper, standing a distance away from me, that big smile still present. I'm pretty sure I'm one of the only people a person can be excited and afraid to meet.

"Thanks." I turn away from her, knowing she is still standing as I search. I know I can't be cruel to her, so I walk a little farther away from her, making it look as though the paper down the aisle caught my attention. I quickly pick up the first stack of paper I see here and turn toward her, walking past and toward the counter.

She scurries behind the counter to ring it up and I pay quickly, taking the bag from her and almost jogging out of the store. I let out a breath and make my way back to Victor's Village, seeing Peeta already back and sitting on the couch in the living room. I groan and plop down next to him. "I'm never going out there alone, again."

He raises an eyebrow but doesn't inquire further, so I take the items out of the bag and splay them on the coffee table. Time to get to work.

We start the book with Cinna. It is his suggestion; for some reason, my stylist is on his mind. I write his name at the top of the paper as nicely as I can, in an elegant dark purple fountain pen that Peeta has in his paint set. We have decided to make the picture at the very top of the page, and then write below it, so I slowly scoot the paper over to him on the coffee table to allow him to work.

It is always fascinating to watch Peeta when he paints. His concentration is very hard to break, unless he needs my help to remember certain features, though he seems to do fine without this. I am amazed at how quickly he can work too, and I trail my gaze up from the hand he's working with to his forearm and all the way to his face. He's biting his lip in concentration with his eyes slightly narrowed, and I can't help to think how handsome he looks. I blush and look back down at the picture, to find it almost complete and absolutely perfect. Cinna is working away in front of a sewing machine, his piercing gold eyes determined and kind, just I remember.

I smile down at it, and then look up at him, who is still looking over the picture in case he finds any flaws. "This is amazing, Peeta."

He slowly looks up to meet my gaze and lets a small smile cross his lips. "I'm glad you like it." He sighs and looks down at the picture again. "He was a good man, wasn't he?"

I nod with a sudden stab in the chest, and can feel tears building up. "Yeah, he was." My voice is almost a whisper, since I'm sure if it was any louder it would break. I take a deep breath and pick up the pen again, bringing to book closer to me and begin to write every small detail about my late friend I can. His brilliance with colors and designs, what he can do with a piece of fabric, the amazing outfits he has designed for me over the year I knew him. I take in a shaky breath, blinking away tears. "All right, who next?" It should be his turn, now.

He looked at it solemnly. "…My dad." He nods toward the next sheet for me to write his name – which I have to ask him for – and then takes it to paint. This time he paints much slower, as if to make the small, intimate moment with his father last.

When he paints the eyes, they are so full of life and happiness that before I know it, I'm rubbing his back and leaning against his left arm. I feel him stiffen for a moment out of surprise, then relax into my touch. "He was so nice. Before the first games, he promised to take care of my little sister." I think I have told him this before a long time ago, but I doubt he remembers with the hijacking.

He nods his head but does not look up from the paper, though he swallows loudly and all I want to do is take him in my arms and calm him until I see his warm smile again. After it is done he spends another second studying it, more so just to remember than to check for imperfections, then passes it back over to while looking away from me, his hand suspiciously rubbing under his eyes.

I move my head from his shoulder and take the hand from his back and grab his hand, warm as always. He turns and smiles at me in thanks and to reassure me he is all right. I stare at him, searching his sad eyes, down his nose and slightly upturned lips and strong jaw. I blush when I realize how long I really have been staring at him and let go of his hand, picking up the pen and positioning the paper in front of me to write. "I'm going to need you to tell me what to write," I speak softly, glancing up at him briefly before looking back down at the paper.

He tells me about how his father was the one person he could tell everything to, including me. How his father would help him through his crush, unlike his brothers who would tease him. He laughs as he remembers this, assuring me that they only meant it in jest. He spoke of how his father would sometimes talk about her mother and their times together before she ran off with my father, and how hard he tried to help when Peeta came back from the games, though it was pointless as any Victor cannot forget and simply be healed.

We then moved on to baking, and how they would sit and decorate for hours at a time, something they shared only together. His brothers usually stuck to bread and other more regular foods. His father would sometimes make him a cupcake or cookie – which they would never tell his mother about – as a token of their time together. He starts to tear up at this point, speaking of how he wishes he said goodbye to his father, how he was the one that was supposed to die, not his father. That was the plan.

I shush him softly and take over, adding my own portion to his page, of how kind he was and how he would always treat my sister with such care.

I can tell how emotionally exhausted he is, which makes me realize how I am in the same state, so I put the page under Cinna's and put the pen back with his utensils. I turn to him with a deep breath. "We should stop for the night. It's probably best to stick to two per night."

He lets out a quick breath and nods. "Yeah."

We sit there for a moment, not wanting to leave each other's company. Usually he would help with the dishes after dinner and go home, but this broke the routine. Would it now break even further? I recall the nights on the train and before the Quarter Quell, how much better I could sleep with him there. I think of how bad things are now, that I rarely get four or five hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Would he want that? I can't ask him, especially if he answers no. I contemplate if he even loves me anymore; I don't know how he could. The hijacking made him hate me, therefore he has had to work his way back up to liking me, but love me? How could he?

When he first began to love me all those years ago, he didn't even really know me. Now that he is able to speak with me and analyze me more closely, there is no way he can feel how he used to.

I look over to him and expect him to turn and excuse himself, but apparently I have been thinking longer than I initially thought because he was leaning onto the arm of the couch, passed out cold. His chest moved up and down in a steady rhythm and his mouth was open slightly, letting out quiet breaths. For the first time in a long time, his face is actually relaxed.

I am hesitant as I lean in his direction and on his chest, bringing my legs up slowly on the couch, bringing my arms up close to my chest and close my eyes. I am surprised at how easily I find sleep.

FGTHG

I wake slowly, blinking against the morning light. I see I am on the couch, and the night before comes back to me. I look up, expecting to see Peeta, but come face-to-face with the couch pillow. He left. I tried to damper the disappointment that comes until I smell the delicious scent of bacon wafting from the kitchen. I sit up and look toward it and see Peeta cooking breakfast.

A smile breaks out on my face before I can stop it, and I bite my lip in an attempt to hide it in case he looks this way. I lift off of the couch and smooth down my hair, wincing when I hit knots, and walk toward the kitchen. "Hey." I stretch and yawn as he turns his head to look at me with a smile.

"Hey."

We are quiet as I grab plates and glasses and he continues to cook. I don't know what else to do to help, so I grab some juice and sit down at the table, pouring it in both glasses.

He finishes soon after, almost being done when I woke up. "I was going to wake you when it was done." He slides some eggs and bacon on my plate and then on his own, walking back over to the counter to grab toast to set on the table between us. "Dig in."

I smile and nod, my voice apparently lost this morning. We eat in silence again, and I look up at him to see him in deep thought.

"I'm sorry for falling asleep here last night," he says as he scratches the back up his head uncomfortably, looking down at his half empty plate.

I shake my head and offer a small smile. "It's fine, Peeta. It's…" I trail off, not sure if it is safe to voice my thoughts. I'm having a hard enough time dealing with them, myself.

"It's what?"

It is my turn to look down at my plate, proud of myself when I fight off a blush. "I sleep better. Like before, when we'd sleep." I instantly regret speaking. "I mean…nevermind. Forget I said anything." When I feel his hand on mine, I look up to see him smile, to my surprise.

"I was thinking the same thing. I just didn't want to, you know…" He shrugs

I do know. He didn't want to drive me away. I know because I feel the same thing when I want to speak up to him. "Well then, I guess we can do that some more?" The blush can't be cut back this time, and the embarrassment becomes worse when I see him smile with a twinkle in his eyes.

He nods, relaxing considerably. "I'd like that."

The rest of breakfast and washing dishes in done in silence once again, but this time it is much more comfortable. "I think I'm going to go hunting," I say once we finish.

He nods. "I need to bake. After all, people need to eat, right?" He winks and heads for the door, giving me one last smile before walking out the door.

I slowly turn toward the stairs and begin to climb up to my room to dress, though once I step foot inside I fall to my bed with a large grin plastered on my face that I can't seem to contain. Maybe I'm finally getting Peeta back after all. I take a deep breath and calm, surprised at my demeanor, and throw on a pair of jeans and my father's hunting jacket and grab my bow and arrows to head out to the forest.

The weather is beautiful today and the woods are heavily populated, most likely due to the lack of hunting lately. I set up a few snares, which instantly reminds me of Gale, but I'm surprised to not feel anything; just as before, when Greasy Sae had told me that he went to District 2. I realize that I was right when we stood together in the Capitol that we most likely would have grown apart, even without the war.

I see a squirrel out of the corner of my eye and am brought out of my thoughts, getting an arrow ready and stretching my arms out with the bow in my hands. I focus, breathing deep and steady as I lock in on my target, letting my arrow fly. I smile when I see it go straight through the eye.

By the end of my trip I make it out with four squirrels and two rabbits and decide to stop in the Hob to hand out some of my game. When I go to Greasy Sae, I tell her that it will probably not be necessary for her to come and cook anymore, but she's welcome to come and eat over anytime she would like. She simply grins and nods, and I know she is thinking about why she no longer needs to come. I leave quickly.

When I make it back to Victor's Village and make my way into my home, setting up a station to gut and clean the animals.

"Hey there, Sweetheart."

I jump and turn to see Haymitch leaning against the doorframe, a smirk on his face as he holds a bottle in a limp hand. I glare at him and go back to what I was doing. "What do you want?"

He doesn't answer, but I hear his footsteps come closer to me until he is standing right behind me, making a sound of disgust and comments on the odor. I bite my tongue to retort on his own house's filthiness. "How are you and the boy?"

I stop for a second, but recover. "Fine." Better to keep this short.

"Mhm."

I know he wants to say more, as if he's keeping in some big secret. I mentally prepare myself before I speak up again.

"Peeta never went home yesterday."

I feel myself heat up, but refuse to take the bait. "What are you, his keeper?"

He laughs and slams his bottle down on the table, forcing me to stop and turn to him. "I always hear him walk by my house, damn loud footsteps he has."

I grunt, hoping that if I keep to one word answers he'll leave.

"So tell me Sweetheart, d'ya know where he was?"

I huff and turn away, refusing to answer. He already knows, anyway, or else he wouldn't be bothering me. I'm happy when I hear him begin to walk back toward the door.

"You better know what you're doing, because you already put him through enough."

My hands freeze and I hear the door shut. His words stick in my brain, haunting me. Of course I know what I'm doing, don't I?


	3. Chapter 3

I decide to start dinner before Peeta is back, hoping that it ends up at least half decent. I've never been much of a cook.

"Katniss?"

I glance toward the sound of the voice briefly, and continue chopping up carrots. "In the kitchen!" His heavy footsteps draw nearer, and I hear something being set down carefully on the table. I throw the carrots in a pot on the stove and turn to see, and when I do, my eyes light up. "Cheese buns!"

He chuckles, an affectionate smile following as he watches me head straight for them. He snatches the plate away when I reach, though, leaving me annoyed.

"Not until dinner."

I huff and roll my eyes. "Fine. It's almost done, anyway." I go back over to the soup and test it, deciding it has cooked long enough and will go perfectly with my cheese buns. Peeta's already sitting at the table with a smile on his face, waiting patiently as I fill up two bowls. I raise an eyebrow when I set his in front of him, and say in a sarcastic – yet playful – tone, "Why are you so happy?"

His smile only drops slightly. "Just pleasantly surprised that you cooked. It just feels…" He trails off, and by the way the sentence started it was obvious what he was hinting toward.

I fight off a blush and clear my throat, taking the seat across from him and instantly reaching for the plate of cheese buns. I smirk, "these will go great with my soup." I station the plate next to me, making it so he can't get to it. Mine.

He raises an eyebrow and snorts, reaching over the table to grab one, which I quickly slap away and look up to glare at him. He sighs and folds his arms, relaxing back into his chair. "You do realize I made those, right?"

I blink, my face straight. "Your point?"

He rolls his eyes with a smile and quickly reaches over and grabs a cheese bun before I can stop him, stuffing it into his mouth, making him look like a chipmunk.

I fight off a laugh at the ridiculous sight. "Hey!"

He finishes chewing and puts on an innocent façade. "What?"

I want to send another glare his way, but it just ends in a fit of laughter. I hiccup as I cut them off, pressing my lips tightly together; I can't remember the last time I have laughed this much, and for some reason, I feel bad. I place the plate in the middle again, after taking another, and we drop into silence.

"You wanna work on the book tonight?"

I glance up at him from my soup and think it over. It was hard last night, really hard. Especially for him. This is one reason why I'm surprised he wants to work on it, but I don't question him. "Sure."

It's back to silence once again, and it stays this way until we settle down onto the living room couch, with all of the supplies that will be used to preserve our memories, both a blessing and a curse.

"I was thinking we could start with Finnick tonight. Annie just had her baby, so I figure we can leave a spot for the picture."

I turn to him, but he is not looking my way, rather down at the strewn pages and paints. "She had a baby?"

He then looks up at me, as if I should have already known. "Yeah. Didn't you get her letters?"

I look over to the spot where I have kept all of my unopened mail, and feel a sense of shame. "I…probably did. Nevermind. Let's start with Finnick." I sit back in a silent gesture for him to begin to paint.

He does, and when he is done it is exceptional. I feel tears come to my eyes as I stare into his sea green irises, and his perfect smile. Poor Finnick, who will never meet his child. I reach out and am about to run my fingers over, but Peeta stops me, making me look up at him in confusion.

He gives me a sad smile. "Still wet."

I look down with an embarrassed smile. "Oh. Right. Sorry."

We work for a while longer, writing down every little memory we can, and when we are done we are both in tears. We decide to play it safe for the next selection, and decide to go with one of the tributes from our first Games. It still hurts, knowing their deaths were pointless, but not as badly as someone you hold dear.

"You have really nice handwriting, Katniss."

I look up at him while I set the pen down, done with the installment. "Thanks. Only because I'm taking my time, though. Yours is still better." I smile then, letting my hand graze over his. "Must be the artist in you."

He smiles and looks down, shaking his head. "Maybe."

We put the pages with our last two and seal them shut, then put everything away for the night. When I look at the clock, it reads eleven.

Peeta looks to where my eyes are trained and sighs. "It's getting pretty late. I should probably head home."

Before he can walk too far, I grab onto his hand. He turns to me in confusion, and quite honestly I am confused by my bold act as well. "Stay." We stare at each other for a good amount of time, and I start to feel anxious. Great. I've just ruined everything, because I can't handle some stupid nightmares.

"Okay."

I blink, taken back to the present time. I'm surprised; even though we had spent the night together yesterday, that was not intentional. I can't help the smile that comes to my mouth, reaching my eyes, a very rare occurrence ever since my father died. "Okay." I keep things simple, afraid that if I allow my mouth to run I will ruin the progress we have made.

We walk up the stairs and to my room, me going to change in the bathroom and he taking everything off but his boxers – just like before. We both ease into bed silently, and I am surprised at how easy this is, almost like we'd never stopped.

We are quiet for a long while and I'm sure that Peeta is asleep, until he speaks up, "thanks for letting me stay, Katniss."

All I do is nod, even though he can't see. I'm torn between staying a distance, or curling up to him like I used to do those many nights ago. In the end I compromise – I move slightly closer and allow my fingers to rest on his hand. It takes me by surprise when he turns in my direction and wraps me in his arms, as though he can sense why I was so hesitant. I decide to keep silent and hope that this will be enough to fight the nightmares off, if even just for one night.

FGTHG

I wake up almost refreshed, though cold, and I can't figure out why. When I open my eyes, it becomes clear – Peeta is gone. I sit up quickly and look around, but there's no sign. He was usually here for breakfast anyway, so why did he leave?

It is only when I'm dressed and open my door do I smell bacon, and hear him humming a chipper tune. I laugh quietly and make my way down the stairs on hunter's feet, and step into the kitchen. "Your voice is awful."

He tenses for a moment, probably because I surprised him, and then turns around with a mock glare. "Why thank you, Ms. Everdeen."

I ignore the look and walk next to him, surveying our breakfast. French toast, bacon, hash browns and fresh berries. My stomach grumbles, and Peeta laughs, making me glare up at him. "I'm hungry."

He shakes his head with a smile and then motions for me to take a seat at the kitchen table, then placing a generous amount of food on two plates, though one seems to have more than the other. When he sets that one in front of me, I raise an eyebrow.

He shrugs and takes his place across from me, immediately digging in. "You're still too skinny."

I look down at myself; even though I've put on weight since my time in the Capitol, I'm still terribly thin. I decide to keep silent and eat my food.

"I was planning on stopping by the bakery again. It should be done by the end of the month and I want to start thinking about the inside layout."

I look up at him, whom is still looking down at his food. By telling me this, is he asking for my company or just making small talk? I think this over for a minute, and then decide to take the plunge. "Want any company?"

He looks up, the corners of his lips turning up. "If you want."

I nod and then we drop into silence once again – just like so many other times – though it is comfortable. When we finish, I take the duty of dishes before he can protest. As I plug up the drain and start running water, there's the sound of glass hitting the floor, making me turn. What I see keeps me rooted to the ground.

Peeta had dropped the plate and was now gripping the back of the chair like it was his lifeline, his eyes shut tight. He's having a flashback. I'm stuck between going to him to try and snap him out of it, or staying where I am; after all, the hijacking's main focus was for him to kill me. His jaw is clenched and I can't even tell if he's breathing; for once in my life, I actually want Haymitch to barge in. "Peeta?"

No response.

I stay in my place, watching him helplessly, until he's breathing evenly and slowly, and then moments later his eyes open and he bends down to pick up the plate, as if nothing happened. I'm still stuck, open-mouthed at how nonchalant he's acting, as he walks around me and turns off the faucet, grabbing a rag to wash his dish.

I snap out of it and take my spot next to him, and open my mouth to speak.

"Don't worry about it, Katniss. I'm fine."

The lack of emotion in his voice sends chills down my spine, but I decide to leave it alone for now. The dishes are done quickly with both of us working wordlessly – him washing and me drying.

Once all of the dishes are put back, he wipes his hands on a towel hanging from the oven handle and looks up at me. "I need to go get changed really quick. I'll be back in a minute." It looks as though he tries to smile, and then he's out the door.

I watch him through the window until he's through his door, and then sigh while I go to sit on the couch to wait, feeling like today will be longer than I planned.


	4. Chapter 4

"I want to keep the layout similar to the original, but I'm not sure what to do with the upstairs." Peeta walks around the downstairs of the bakery, hand on his chin as he looks around his semi-done bakery.

I stay by the door so I can take in the whole area, a thought coming to me. "What about a huge office? You could set up a couch and desk, so you can do all the finances in a more suitable environment."

He turns and looks at me for a moment, lost in thought, then nods slowly as a smile appears on his face. "I like it." His eyes widen slightly, his smile growing as he walks over to me, a catalog he got from the Capitol in hand. "I haven't showed you all of the things I'm getting, have I?"

I shake my head, and am actually happy to listen. I'm glad that he's getting so excited over something; he deserves it. "Wanna show me?"

He nods and stands close to me, pulling out pages that he'd marked. "Here are the ovens I'm getting. They're double ovens, which is super cool, especially since I've only gotten used to using electric ovens in Victor's Village. They say they're self-cleaning, too! I'm not too sure what that means, but it'll probably come in handy." He turns the page, "And then, look at this sink! It comes with all of this stuff, like a cutting board – though obviously I'll have to get more, and a strainer. Oh! And the dishwashers. I have to admit, those are pretty handy."

I listen to him go on about the 'awesome' mixers he wants to get, and how he'll probably get two different kinds because he can't choose, and the utensils and different display cases. I can't help but grin at his child-like enthusiasm, and the way his eyes sparkle makes my heart soar. "Sounds like you have everything figured out."

He scratches the back of his head and looks down at his shoes, the smile gone. "I just…I want it to be perfect."

My eyes soften as I gently put a hand on his shoulder. It's no secret he's thinking about his family; how he wants it to be perfect for them. "It is, Peeta." I want to find some way to alleviate the situation, no only to take him out of his miserable thoughts, but also because I've never been good at handling these sorts of situations. In fact, I usually make things worse. "What color are you going to paint it?"

The smile is back, and I feel accomplished. "Well, I was thinking I would use some sort of red. Apparently it makes you hungry." He moves around the room again, pointing out where he's going to paint some designs, and where he wants to hang some paintings. "I was thinking of putting one of those speaker systems in – like what they use at stores in the Capitol – to set the mood. Something soft."

I nod, remembering hearing such a thing before the war. He's really thought all of this through. "Well, it all sounds great, Peeta. Really." I smile warmly, to which he beams back with pride.

"You think?"

I nod, and then look out the window. We have been in the bakery for a good few hours now. For the first couple of hours, he was setting up some of the last changes for the builders this morning. After all this, I was getting pretty hungry – it had to be at least three. "Hey, do you want to head home for some lunch? I can make us a couple of salads with the leftover squirrel."

He nods his head with a smile and leads me out the door. "I'll make some cheese buns to go with. They don't take that long to make." He then takes my hand, and I let him keep it there, oddly enough not caring if any passersby see. Most already have their opinions on us, anyway, I'm sure.

The sky begins to get cloudy and gray on our trip back, and I hope we make it back home before it starts raining. I pull his hand to make him walk faster, a small yelp of surprise coming from him. "I want to get back before it starts raining." I look back momentarily and see him nod, coming up to keep pace with me.

We make it inside right as it downpours, making me lean against the door and laugh, "and that's why we walked fast."

He begins to laugh too, facing toward me when he leans against the door, too. "Thanks to you."

Our laughter begins to die down, and I realize how close he actually is. So close, that all I would have to do is lean up and our lips would touch. I want so badly to turn away, my cheeks flushing, but something has me rooted to the spot. He seems to notice our predicament as well, but doesn't turn away. In fact, he seems to be leaning closer.

Before I know it, we're both leaning in, so slowly it wouldn't be noticeable right away, until our lips are barely touching the other's.

Just then, there's loud banging on the door. I scream and jump away, my heart pounding in my chest at the sudden sound. I curse and walk over to the door, not looking in Peeta's direction, and swing it open with a scowl, knowing it could only be one person. "What do you want, Haymitch?"

Haymitch stumbles through the door with a bottle of white liquor in his hand, soaking wet. He clumsily turns in my direction, his voice slurred when he speaks, "Well sweetheart, I was just coming over to see if you kids have whipped up any food since Good ole' Sae doesn't come around anymore," he glares at us, "but it just so happens to bee pouring outside. Now, how 'bout that food?" He passes us and plops down on a chair at the kitchen table, taking another gulp of alcohol.

Peeta sighs, and I hear him head toward the stairs. "I'm going to go get him a towel."

I still can't bring myself to look in his direction, so I settle for a simple, "Okay." I take a deep breath and head to the kitchen, the scowl returning as I walk past my former mentor and head for the fridge to start the sandwiches.

"Why so flushed?"

I pause what I'm doing for a second, then continue on silently. There's no way I'm sharing this with him; his teasing would be incessant when Peeta comes back down. I hear him snort and the sound of the bottle hitting the table.

"Here." It's Peeta, and I hear the sound of a towel being thrown, as well as a sarcastic 'thanks' from Haymitch. His footsteps come closer to me as he moves to the fridge to get out the cheese and milk to start on the buns. "These should be done in about ten minutes, so we can eat them after the sandwiches."

I nod and brave a glance at him. I see his Adam's apple bob when he swallows, busying himself with mixing all of the ingredients. I finish the sandwiches quickly and hand one to Haymitch, who stands up with the plate in one hand and liquor in the other, stumbling toward the door as he looks between the two of us. "I think I'll take this to go." I watch as he heads straight out into the rain again, reminding me that getting drunk is definitely not worth it.

I set the other two plates down in our regular spots, and notice the slight damage done to his chair, bringing me back to this morning. This is something we need to talk about, as well as letting me sidestep what had happened against the door. "Do they happen often?"

He tenses over the cookie sheet, and I'm scared that I might have set him off. His hands begin to work again, slower than before, when he speaks, "No. Usually they have to be triggered, but sometimes they take me by surprise." He sets the buns in the oven and then plops down in his spot, looking at me thoughtfully. "Dr. Aurelius has taught me to fight off the attacks. What happened earlier, that was only minor. I'm glad, because I wouldn't know what to do if I hurt you again." His eyes turn down, his fingers limp.

I hesitantly reach a hand across the table to grip his, a silent comfort. He takes a deep breath before he continues. "Since that wasn't triggered, that's probably why it wasn't too bad of one. It's common for me to be pretty worn after stronger ones."

I nod, though he can't see; he still won't look at me. I want to make him feel better about this, to let him know that it doesn't change anything. This is a big step up from him locking his hands around my throat – this thought makes me shudder. "Peeta, look at me."

He doesn't.

"Peeta," I say, my voice much more strict, forcing him to look up. I sigh and grip his hand harder, trying to make my eyes look soft; not an easy feat for me. "I'm not afraid of you." I want to say more, but I can't get the nerve to make myself.

It seems to be enough, though, because a small smile makes its way onto his face. He then sighs and looks toward the living room. "Do you…so you think we can skip the memory book today?"

I'm not surprised; actually, I almost feel relieved. The last thing I want is to trigger one of his flashbacks. "Uh, sure." I look out the window above the sink – it was still raining pretty hard, and when I looked at the clock, I'm surprised that it's already six. I then look below and see the cookie sheet, with dough disks still on the sheet. "Um…"

He follows my eyes and then jumps up. "Oh, sorry. It'll only be about eight minutes."

I smile as he puts them in the oven quickly, smiling at me apologetically. At least the serious conversation is over. "You really should pay attention more, Peeta. I was expecting my cheese buns two hours ago," I say with a smirk.

He rolls his eyes playfully and walks back over to me. We wait in silence, and then eat the cheese buns. After, we walk over to the couch in front of the fireplace.

As I sit down, he walks to the fireplace and puts some logs in. "I'm going to start up a fire."

"Okay." I watch as he works, maybe a little too closely. It was nice, the way his muscles in his arms moved while he maneuvered the logs with a poker, and how when he bent down like that-I shake my head.

He walks back over to me with a smile, sitting down a bit closer than usual. Before I know it, I'm leaning against him, his arm around my waist. I'm so relaxed that I feel my eyes droop, and then nothing.

FGTHG

Fire. That's all I see. And then there's more faces, familiar faces.

Finnick. Rue. Cato. Marvel. Boggs. Coin. Snow. Prim.

They're all calling for me, telling me to join in the fire. They're smiling, but not kind smiles. No, they're sneering. I won't go, though. I can't even speak, let alone move.

The fire's getting closer, all of the faces burning, eyes falling out, and then it's so close that I can't get out.

I'm burning, burning, burning…

"Katniss!"

I wake with a scream, coming face to face with worried blue eyes. I close my eyes and cling to him, hiding my face in the crook of his neck.

"Shh." He's stroking my hair, his lips pressed to the top of my head. "It was just a dream, Katniss. Just a dream."

I not, knowing if I speak they will come out as sobs. I feel him lifting my head away, and then a kiss on my forehead.

Before I know it, his lips are on mine.

The kiss is soft and sweet, his lips familiar and warm. He has one hand still around my waist, while the other is cupping the back of my head; both of my hands are on his cheeks to keep him still.

He pulls away from me, breathless, and leans his forehead against mine. "Let's go to bed."

I nod and let him pick me up, carrying me all the way to my room. He tucks me in and then crawls into the covers behind me, swinging a hand around me and pressing a kiss on my neck. "Good night."

I smile as I close my eyes. "Good night."


	5. Chapter 5

Over the next month more kisses are shared and we've boosted up the number of entries to three a day; once we put down everyone we could think of, we got Haymitch involved. He'd offered up tributes of the past, and I was surprised at how well he remembered them. Soon enough, our book was complete, with dried Primroses between the sheets.

It is now Sunday, the day before the opening of the bakery, and I've never seen Peeta more excited. Over the past week, people have been coming up to the bakery to inquire on the exact date, so we already know there'll be a pretty large crowd there – not to mention the newcomers to District 12, who will do anything to catch a glimpse of their Star-Crossed lovers. I'm sure we'll probably end up with at least one interview throughout the day.

Right now we're in the kitchen, Peeta baking non-stop. He's fluttering around nervously, as though none of his creations will turn out – I spend my time sitting on one of the counters he's not working on and reassure him that everything will be amazing.

"Here, try this Katniss. It just…doesn't look right to me. I don't know." He hands me a slice of cinnamon bread, and honestly I see no difference than any of the other times he's made it. It still tastes as delicious, too.

I take another bite, making a show of how much I'm enjoying it, licking my lips when I swallow. "It's delicious, Peeta. Stop worrying." I want to laugh, but I'm afraid that'll just cause him to become more anxious, if it's possible.

He nods at me and then moves to ready some white bread that has been rising for the past hour and a half. "I figure I'll get all of the bread out of the way tonight – at least as much as I can – and then once it starts getting early I'll start on the quicker things."

I want to roll my eyes. Of course, he's staying up all night; I'm just glad that he finished all the cakes yesterday and stuck them in the fridge at the bakery. I watch as he works like a maniac and sigh. "Well, if you're staying up all night I guess I'll stay up too. For support."

He looks at me with concern and hesitation. "You don't have to do that, Katniss. You'll end up really tired, and I don't want all the fiasco tomorrow to take a toll on you-"

"Any more than it'll take on you?"

He pauses, blinks, looks around, then turns back to me. "Fine." And then he's back to work.

I watch as he starts to knead dough for another loaf, and see a small bowl of nuts and fruit next to it; it looked uncannily familiar. My eyes widen. "Are you making…?"

He looks up at me, then follows my eyes to the bowl. A small smile adorns his lips when he looks back up with a nod. "Yeah. Brings back memories, huh?"

I nod, not sure how I feel. It's a bittersweet memory, even more so after the war. Instead of mulling over it, I jump off of the counter top and walk over to him, hugging him from behind and laying a soft kiss on his neck. "Thank you, Peeta."

He turns in my arms with a raised eyebrow. "That was years ago, Katniss; and you've already thanked me for it."

I simply shake my head. "The first gift is always the hardest to repay."

An adoring smile comes out as he wraps his arms around me, still covered in flour, and leans down to kiss me. "Trust me Katniss, you've repaid me plenty of times over." We spend a few moments in silence, and then he gently pushes me away and back toward my counter. "Now go sit and look pretty. I need to finish baking." He winks and turns back to the dough.

I laugh and roll my eyes, jumping back up to watch him once again.

It isn't until around three in the morning that I get off to make us some coffee – we're both used to sleepless nights, though they've gone down drastically since we've been sharing a bed. I make him take a ten minute break to drink with me, but he's antsy the whole time, saying he's wasting precious time. When I ask him if he thinks I'm a waste of time, he immediately stops. I know all the right buttons to push.

Finally, around eight o'clock in the morning, he's finished. We wrap all of the loaves and put them in giant cloth totes to carry to the bakery, and then a cart to put the cakes on. After everything is packed we run upstairs to get ready, seeing as we probably won't be back until after the opening, which is at eleven.

I want to look nice for him, since he's so excited, so I out on a soft orange – his favorite color – cotton spaghetti strap dress and a simple pair of flip flops. The dress is surprisingly comfortable, and something I should be able to wear all day no problem. I walk back down the stairs to see Peeta already down there; he's moved his things into my house the week before. He had on a nice soft orange button up – cuffed to his elbows – and some chinos.

When he saw me, he smiled. "We match."

I smile back and nod. "Just like old times." Normally this would sober me, but I won't allow it today. After everything Peeta does for me, he deserves at least one day without worrying about me.

He walks up to me and gives me a lingering kiss that leaves me wanting more. "You're beautiful."

I look down at my feet, still bashful to his compliments. "Thanks." I take a deep breath and then look up at him, grabbing a bag. "Now, let's go. Don't want to be late!" I head out the door, hearing Peeta chuckle behind me as he follows with the cart.

We walk in silence, and when I look over at Peeta I can see him in deep thought; probably still worrying about the bakery. When the bakery comes into view, he seems to lose nerve again. I glance over at him and smile. "Peeta, everything will be great. I promise."

He nods, though only half-listening, and then unlocks the back door for us to bring everything through.

It takes us about two hours to set everything up, including putting tables out front, which we will put a third of what Peeta baked out on once he opens the doors to the customers for the first time.

I can already see people starting to make their way over as Peeta turns on the soft music, closely related to 'smooth jazz' from the time of America. I turn from the window and toward him. "Peeta, people are starting to come."

The delighted surprise on his face is comical, almost as if he didn't think anyone would come. Knowing him, he probably didn't. "Oh! Good!" He rushes to my side and looks out the window, a large smile starting to spread on his lips as he sees his new customers awaiting a half hour early.

Over the next thirty minutes a large group has formed, and I can't help but notice some foreign faces, and how a few of them are carrying cameras. I shake my head and decide to put it aside for now.

"Here goes nothing." I turn to Peeta as he goes to the newly places double doors, and begins to open them.

I smile when I hear cheers.

Peeta is propping the doors open with an award-winning smile as he keeps the customers at bay until he fills up the tables near the doors. I know this is my key, no matter how much I want to stay away from the crowd, and take the bag I brought with me and begin to fill the tables with different types of breads and pastries.

"Look at this, Katniss. This is amazing."

I can't help but shiver at the feel of Peeta's breath on my neck as he whispers to me. "I knew it would be." I stand straight again and step aside with a smile to give Peeta his time. I watch as he allows people inside, some going straight to what they want – they most likely were figuring out their orders while waiting – and striking up conversations amongst themselves. I smile when I hear words of praise directed toward Peeta and the bakery.

It's not long until I feel claustrophobic, so I try and break through the crowd to outside, where I see Peeta chatting with Thom, one of the ex-miners and an old friend of Gale's. Since I'm familiar with this face, it's not too difficult for me to join.

When Thom sees me, he smiles and gives me a half hug. "Katniss! You look well."

I smile and nod once. "Thanks. You do, too." I try not to blush when Peeta puts an arm around my waist.

He brings me in closer as he continues his conversation, while I observe. I find it odd that no one was at the pay counter yet, but then see every hurried customer from before chatting and laughing with old friends, making the bakery seem much more homely than before the war. My smile drops when I see a few cameras pointing in our direction, though instead of just a snap and then drop, they keep them trained on us.

I untangle myself from Peeta's grasp, keeping one eye on the cameras, as I head back inside to go behind the counter in case some people want to get the payments out of the way before continuing on.

I stay here for a good twenty minutes, ringing up orders with forced pleasantries – it's amazing how my mood can turn so quickly at the sight of a camera – when Peeta comes up behind me with a kiss on the cheek. I turn to him and glare, hoping no one saw.

He's simply in too good a mood to care, though, so I sigh and turn back toward the customers, ready to ring more up as I keep myself from pulling out of his arms again. This feat becomes extremely difficult when the cameras make it inside. "Peeta."

"Hm?"

"People have cameras." I glance up at him, and then back at the customers. I feel him shrug and give me another kiss on the cheek before taking my place in front of the cash register. I watch how easily he interacts with the customers, laughing like they're all old friends, and despite the chaos around us I can't help but feel proud.

FGTHG

"Today was a big hit." I'm lying against Peeta on the couch in front of the television. The bakery thrived well into the late afternoon, and both of us are exhausted. I close my eyes and bury down into his chest.

"I know! Tiring, but we definitely came in with a bang." His grip tightens around me.

I'm about to say something when I hear a mention of Peeta on the TV. We both look up in confusion and I feel my stomach drop as I see Peeta and me in the bakery, his arm around me and smiles on our faces. Obviously one of those 'customers' with the cameras decided to profit off of the Star-Cross Lovers.

"This is footage from today in District 12, showing our Star-Cross Lovers alive and very well. Sources have said they were kissing and cuddling the whole time during the opening of the Mellark Bakery." The woman reporter smiles brightly as our image turns small and into the corner as she continues on with the news.

I pull away from Peeta and put my head in my hands. What are we supposed to do? It's no secret that now that they've gotten a glance at us in present time, they'll want more. I hear Peeta sigh and place a hand on my shoulder, which I push away.

"Katniss-"

"What are we supposed to do now?" I cut him off, looking at him in exasperation. "You do realize they're going to take this opportunity to dive back into the lives of their Star-Crossed Lovers." I say the last part sarcastically, then let out a breath and collapse against the couch.

Peeta puts a hand on my shoulder again, but I no longer have the energy to push it off. "We'll figure it out. Maybe nothing will happen; they've gotten a little sneak peek, saw us happy, put some senseless gossip about our future 'real' wedding and how many children they predict we'll have, and then it'll be over. For now." He looks down bashfully, and I wonder what he was thinking. For now?

I groan and look up toward the ceiling. "Whatever. It's not going to happen that way and you know it. Besides, who says we're getting married?" My stomach flips at the idea, and I can't tell if that's good or bad. I decide to go safe for now, but I'm not sure how long that'll last by the look of pain that crosses his face; I can tell how hard he's trying to mask it, though.

"Nothing. No one. It just came out, sorry." We sit in silence for a bit, both deep in thought, when he turns off the television and stands up. "I'm pretty tired. Good night."

I watch his retreating back in surprise. Usually he would coax me to go up with him, a warm smile on his face. Right now…nothing. I hear the bedroom door close, and I flinch. I mean, it's not like I said we couldn't ever get married. Maybe. Just, not now.

So many mixed feelings are shooting through me, and I really need to get some rest. I don't necessarily think Peeta wants me up with him right now, so I take a blanket off of the back of the couch and snuggle up, falling asleep quickly.

When I open my eyes, I am in my room with Peeta asleep next to me, turned in the opposite direction. I move closer to him and place a hand on his arm, before letting sleep overcome me once again.


	6. Chapter 6

When I wake up in the morning, Peeta's already out of bed. At first I panic, remembering our conversation from last night, but when I scent of freshly baked breads wafts through the door, I calm. I climb out of bed and make my way out of the room and down the stairs in a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top; I decide to ignore how I got into these, Peeta obviously being the one to put them on me. Yep, best not to think about it. There was already enough awkwardness at the moment, without me bombarding him about changing me.

Usually when he's cooking breakfast in the morning, he whistles small tunes and greets me kindly, but today he is silent and simply sends me a small smile before turning back to the frying pan. A small sense of panic comes back as I sit down at the table quietly, almost afraid to break the silence in fear of him finally letting everything out. Obviously he's still bothered about last night, and I'd rather avoid the topic for as long as possible.

We eat in an awkward silence, my heart beating loudly.

"I need to get to the bakery. Get some things ready." He stands up from the table, offers me another small smile, and then goes upstairs to get ready.

He's decided to skip a day to let news of the bakery get around – not that it hadn't already – and to give him the day to get more baking done, since he was completely sold out yesterday.

I'm up and cleaning the dishes when he comes back down the stairs, throwing on his shoes and waving goodbye. There wasn't even a goodbye kiss to accompany it. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and finish up the dishes, then decide to straighten up the rest of the house to occupy myself since I'm not in the mood to hunt today.

I start with cleaning up the rest of the kitchen, and even organize all of the cupboards. I then move to the living room, then his painting room and onto our bedroom. I scrub down the bathrooms and dust the unused rooms, and clean all the walls – not that they particularly need it.

When Peeta comes home at seven – quite late, in actuality – he raises both eyebrows. "House looks nice."

I offer a tight smile. "Thanks." All I want is for this awkwardness to go away, for the whole topic to leave. It's selfish, but that's what I am. Selfish.

We eat dinner in the same silence we ate breakfast, and then finally I can't take it. When we finish the dishes together, I slam a hand down on the kitchen counter and look at him fiercely. "This needs to stop."

All he does is raise an eyebrow, baffled.

I huff in exasperation and fling my hands up in the air. "I know you're mad about my marriage comment! It's not like we've been together for that long, anyway, so you really have no reason to be."

He stiffens, and I'm sure I've done it this time. I probably didn't need to tack on that last piece. He then sighs and turns to me, his expression unreadable. "Katniss, we don't need to discuss this. I'm tired."

I shake my head and push him back when he tries to go past me, anger overtaking rationality. "No! We're settling this, now. I want to know why you're mad!"

"Because you refuse to give in!" It's not often when Peeta yells at me, so when he does it means he's really mad.

I scoff, because this makes no sense to me. Perhaps we're both beyond rational thinking. "That doesn't make sense, Peeta! What the hell are you talking about? What do you want from me?" I want to take back that last question, because I'm not sure if I want the answer.

He turns away from me and takes a few deep breaths, I figure to calm himself, and then flips back over with a frown. "You refuse to let yourself get any closer to me. You have no problem giving me kisses and playing the perfect part of a significant other, but you can't admit it. It's frustrating, Katniss. Don't you get that?"

I do. I always have, because I've always put him through it. After he was hijacked, I realized all his because he didn't love me anymore. Now that he does, it seems that I have forgotten how badly I'm taking advantage of him again. I won't give in this easily though. "No Peeta, I don't! I don't understand what you expect of me, what you still need from me!" I cross my arms, glaring.

He laughs mirthlessly, shaking his head. "It's just…I don't want to pressure you into anything, Katniss." He sighs and takes a step closer to me; I step back. "I'm not saying we have to get married or anything, I just want you to admit what we are. That we're more than you let yourself believe. I'm sick of just being your safe zone, especially when I now know you feel something, no matter how much you try to hide it."

I open my mouth to retort, but I find that I have nothing. There's no more ammo for me to use. I sigh and drop my gaze. "And what exactly do I feel?"

I hear him walk closer, and then he's lifting my chin so I meet his eyes. "You tell me." He leans forward, halfway toward my lips, and waits for me to make the next move.

Before I know it, I'm kissing him. One soft kiss turns into another, and soon enough his tongue is in my mouth and he's leading me to the stairs, picking me up to carry me to our room. He closes the door behind us and presses me against it. A sound comes from me, one I have never heard before, as he gently nips and sucks on my neck. It's guttural. Ferocious. My hands run up and down his back until I reach the hem of his shirt. He seems to take the hint, since he pulls back to take it off and is right back to attacking my throat. I place my hands back, tracing every contour, every muscle, in his back. My nails are gently grazing, causing a content sigh to slip from him.

He removes himself from me, making me involuntarily whine. It takes me by surprise when he pushes me onto the bed, then slowly crawls on top of me, bringing his mouth to mine. He's taking everything much slower now, committing everything to memory, and I'm sure we both know where this is going.

I take his lower lip between my teeth before diving back in, opening my mouth when he licks between them. His hands move down my sides and to my shirt, and then he lifts away from me to look me in the eyes, a silent question as he rubs the fabric in between two fingers. I let a small, shaky smile come to my face to motivate him forward, and lift my back off the ground.

He inches the fabric over my stomach and right below my breasts, before looking back up at me for one more reassurance that this is okay. I can see the longing in his eyes, no matter how hard he tries to mask it. When I nod and lift the other half of my body up, he quickly pulls the shirt over my head and lets me fall back down against the bed. I blush a deep red when he sits back on his haunches to take me in; when a smile spreads on his lips before he leans down to kiss in between my breasts, I feel much more relaxed. I'm pleasantly surprised I'm not as embarrassed by him seeing my scars as I thought I would be if it ever came down to this.

His lips move over my left breast, near my heart, until they close down on my nipple. I gasp when he sucks experimentally, which seems to encourage him more as he moves his tongue in little circles before sucking again. I moan soft and low, my eyes closed in contentment and fingers running through his hair. Fire is shooting from his point of interest down to my toes and center. This fire, the one I've felt those times before, is all much more apparent. It's lust.

But no, not just lust. There's something else as well, something I still can't fully put my finger on. I decide to push it away for the time being when I feel one hand reach the top of my pants, his thumb running back and forth over the button, almost begging for my approval to undo it. All of the sudden, everything just seems to be too slow; I gently push him away, his eyes questioning, and then unbutton and pull down my pants. I toss them off of the bed with a foot, only clad in my underwear.

His eyes darken again as he spends no time crawling back on top of me. As he attacks my lips, I run my hands up and down his taut chest, feeling each beautiful scar. The heat builds even further when I hear him gasp at my light touch. All I want is to feel more of him, so I reach my hands down between us so I can unbutton his pants. He seems to take the hint, because he's off of me in an instant and pulling them down.

Before he can climb back onto me, I sit up and latch my index fingers into each side of his boxers, the large tent causing immense curiosity. He allows me to pull them down, letting him spring free. I stare, taking in this foreign body part as he takes the rest of his boxers off. I hear him chuckle, and I retaliate by slowly reaching out a hand to graze his erection, effectively cutting off the laughs. I feel oddly empowered.

Before I know what's happening, I'm back onto my back and he's inching down my underwear, throwing off to who knows where. There's a pressure at my center that makes me moan loudly, and I look down to see two of Peeta's fingers running up and down my folds. I let my head drop back with another moan when he starts to use his thumb to play with the bundle of nerves at the top; it feels so incredibly good. "Where did you learn to do that?" I'm surprised when this comes from my lips, but I find that I really am curious, and a little afraid of the answer.

He's biting his lip with a shrug. "When you have two older brothers, they try to scar you with telling you this kind of stuff when you're still young. Turns out the joke's on them, huh?"

I feel better and allow the pleasure to overcome my thoughts. "Ye-ooo-es." My eyes widen and my back arches when he slides a finger in me. I buck my hips and moan when he curls his finger. "Oh, Peeta…"

He groans when I say his name, bringing me back to reality. I realize that this isn't enough. I need more, and by the looks of it, so does he.

"God Katniss, you're so wet."

I'm surprised at how easily this comes from him, but neither of us is completely capable of thought at the moment. All that matters is how he feels when he touches me, how I can imagine he'll feel inside of me. "Peeta…" I grab for him and still his hand, pulling it out and moving so my legs are on either side of his hips, lining him up with me.

I hear his breathing increase, and realize mine does, too. My eyes are closed, intent on feeling every bit of what is about to happen, ride out every wave of pleasure that will crash over me. I feel him at my entrance and open my eyes to see him positioning himself to enter me. Now when I close my eyes, it's due to nerves. This is really happening. I'm about to lose my virginity, and to the man I love.

Love. I realize this is the other feeling that accompanied the lust, and I'm surprised at how incredibly nice it is to admit.

That's when he breaks through, and the feel of his stretching me is not what I expected. We had sex ed, so I know it's supposed to hurt, but this is different. I'm sore, but he's just so gentle that it gradually goes away comfortably. He's keeping still, most likely to let me get more used to it, but I can see how badly he wants to move. When his eyes meet mine, the intensity of his gaze makes me dizzy. There is so much desire, lust, love. I know for a fact that I have never felt so loved in my life.

I move my hips up to meet his, letting him know he can move, and when he pulls out and pushes back in, I allow myself to fall back against the bed with my eyes closed once again. He keeps a slow, steady rhythm, most likely afraid of hurting me, but I can't take much more. I need to find some way to speed him up, some way to satiate this fire as soon as possible. "Peeta, more. I need…oh…"

He picks up on my words because he's picking up his pace, the bed creaking in time with our rocking, and soon enough I'm synching myself to his rhythm; it's awkward at first, but soon we maintain it and all that's left is euphoria. The fire's burning brighter, the one fire I will welcome with open arms.

"Katniss, I'm…oh, fuck." His moans are growing louder, and I find myself oddly turned on by his swearing, something I have never heard come from him in my life. He drops his head into the crook of my neck as he moves harder, his movements turning jerky, then slow and powerful as one last moan escapes him.

We breathe heavily, him on top of me, as we come down from the high. I'm still burning, still in need of release, so I wriggle my hips in hopes to feel him hard again.

He sits up and pulls out, obviously done for the night, but sticks a couple of fingers in place. "I'm sorry, let me finish you."

I don't object as he leans down to kiss me, his fingers moving at a fast pace, his thumb pushing my nub as I lift my hips and arch my back. I'm gasping, small high-pitched sounds coming out as everything goes white. My whole body is shuddering, and I'm sure I've never felt something so amazing in my life. I drop down heavily, taking labored breaths as he kisses and nips my neck.

He drops down next to me, both of us staring at the ceiling until we're both calmed. I turn my head to look at him, willing him to look back at me. A smile adorns his face at he looks at me, reaching a hand out to stroke my cheek. I lift a hand to hold him there. The smile drops as he seems to go into deep thought, then looks me straight in the eyes. "You love me. Real or not real?"

I don't hesitate to answer as a soft smile comes out. "Real."


	7. Chapter 7

I snuggle deeper into Peeta's bare chest, not ready to wake up and leave his warmth, both inside and out. Instead, I take to matching my breathing with his, trying to make it lull me to sleep once again. After about ten minutes of this, I realize I'm not going back to sleep and look at the clock on the other side of Peeta. 9:15 Am. I sigh, figuring I should get up and start breakfast; it'll be nice for him, since he's always the one doing it.

I slip out of his arms as quietly as possible, and then put a pillow in my place before he realizes I'm not there. When I begin to walk, I quickly realize how sticky the inside of my thighs are, making my nose scrunch. "Better clean that up." I walk into the bathroom, intending to take a shower, but stop when I come to a realization. We didn't use any protection. My heart starts beating wildly as I run out of the bathroom, still unclothed, and jump on Peeta to wake him up. "Peeta! Get up!"

He groans and turns on his stomach, putting his arms on top of his head. He goes back to sleep.

Can't he see I'm freaking out? I groan and frustration and shake him harder. "Peeta! I swear if you don't get up, you're never getting this again!"

"I'm up!" He sits up so fast that I fall off of him. When he sees me, he looks me over and smiles. "Hello, beautiful." He goes to pull me toward him for a kiss, but I push him away.

"Peeta, we have a serious situation," I say, sitting up so my legs are bent under me.

He raises an eyebrow with a worried expression on his face. "What situation?"

I swallow and I'm sure I look panicked, because he suddenly does too. "We didn't use anything."

At first he looks confused, and then it dawns on him. He's definitely as panicked as I am now. "Oh."

That's it? Oh? I sigh heavily. "Peeta, this is a big deal!"

He takes a deep breath to calm himself down, probably on my behalf. "All right, let's just calm down. We don't know for sure if you're pregnant or not. When's your next…err…female cycle?" He's as red as a tomato and looks down when he says this.

I blush too. This is definitely not something I want to talk about, and I don't understand why he needs to know that. "Um…in two weeks?" Now I'm looking down. "Why?"

"I heard they have these home pregnancy tests, but you're supposed to take them if your…you know, is late for the best results. So, I guess we wait until then and see if you have it, and if not we'll buy one."

I then look up, my brow furrowed. "How do you know this?" I know he's never done anything like this except with me, so I'm incredibly confused.

He shrugs and says, "When I was in confinement, they had me near the regular hospital rooms when I was in more control. I heard one of the healers talking about them."

I nod. Good enough for me. I take a deep breath, now trying to calm myself, but more for my benefit than his. It's not working. I can't have a child. I can't. "Peeta, I can't have a kid. I don't know what to do, but I just can't. Do you understand?"

I'm surprised to see a small amount of disappointment in his eyes, but I have to remember that he does want kids eventually. Better not to think about that right now. "We can't have…do that again until we find out. I don't care if you find something for protection; we're waiting until I get my period." Have to think positively. When I have it, not if.

He takes a moment before he nods. I know he understands why, and I'm sure he doesn't want to piss me off anymore than I already am. "All right. That's fine. But um, I'll still try to find something for after all this, okay?"

I swallow and nod, bringing my legs up to hide myself, since I'm suddenly aware of how naked I am. "But you can't just walk around asking for something. Do you even know what we can use?" What kind of things do people use for that? Hopefully nothing with needles. There's no way we'll be able to get something without somebody knowing.

He scratches the back of his head, his teeth gritted. "I…don't know. I'm sure your mom would know, but I doubt you want that."

My eyes widen. There is no way that my mother is going to know about this. I barely talk to her as it is; she does not need to know about my sex life. "Well, I guess if you go to that market you can act like you're just browsing and happen upon something. I mean, I'm sure you can figure out if there's something for this. Labels, right?" Please let there be labels.

He nods, and looks hesitant. Uh oh. I don't think I want to know what he's about to say. "Okay, but…maybe you should come with me."

I look at him incredulously. Is he serious? "Why?"

He shrugs and says, "Well, it could be by the things you use for…" He motions toward my nether regions, and I realize what he's saying, and sadly it sounds accurate. I mean, those things go together in some messed up way, right? Why not put them all together to get the embarrassment out of the way in one sweep? "I…well, can't you get them for me? Just pick up the box and act like you're being a really good boyfriend."

Suddenly he's smiling, making anger boil within me. Why the hell is he all of the sudden happy? I glare at him. "What?"

"You called me your boyfriend."

I'm about to deny this when I realize he's right. Damn it. "Well, I guess technically you are." I did say I loved him last night. Kind of.

He tugs at my arm until I'm lying on top of him, his arm going around my waist. "Good."

I pull out of his grasp and sit back into my earlier position. "Peeta, we have other things to think about right now!" I glare at him and want to get up to change, but he doesn't deserve the show. "Turn around. I want to get dressed."

He raises an eyebrow with a smirk. "Katniss, I've obviously already seen you naked. You're naked right now, even."

When I growl, he realizes I'm in no mood for playful comments and turns away. I get up and grab the closest pair of pants and plain v-neck t-shirt. Nevermind that it's pink; I'm not taking my time. I throw on some socks and my boots. "Okay."

He turns back around. "That looks nice on you."

Great, now he's going for the compliments. I can't tell if he's being genuine or just making up for earlier, so I roll my eyes and walk out of the room. "Hurry up." Lucky that all of his things are now in my house.

He's down ten five minutes later dressed much like me – I'm surprised that his v-neck turns me on – and his hair brushed, making me remember my own locks. If looking for protection isn't obvious enough to what we've been doing, my hair must be. I know I'm right when he starts to smooth down my hair. "All good."

I nod. I just want to get this over with, so I'll trust him. He'd never let me embarrass myself, anyway. "Let's go."

The walk is quiet and I'm happy when we make it inside; time for us to split. "You go look wherever, and I'll go to that section."

He nods and is off. I let out a breath; time to look. I casually make my way over, knowing where it is since I've obviously had to get them before. Since I've been eating better my period has gotten more regular. I stand in front of the products, glancing to the side to see anything. I'm about to give up when I notice some product I've never seen before. I shuffle my way over to the end, taking small glances.

They're…condoms. Never heard of them. Even though we had sex Ed, our district was too poor to afford any sort of protection so they didn't bother to teach us. I look around to make sure that no one is near and then move in front of them. When I read it, it's obvious what they are. Good, now I'll just tell Peeta about them and he can come over and get them while I leave.

"Been gettin' busy, Sweetheart?"

Oh no. Please, no. I turn slowly and come face-to-face with my ex-mentor. I'm screwed. "Uh…"

He smirks and stumbles over beside me. "Oh don't mind me; it was only a matter of time. Since you're married and everything." He winks at me and puts an arm around my shoulders; he reeks of alcohol and I try to move away. No luck. I decide the best tactic is to turn this back around on him, so I cross my arms and say, "What are you doing here? Out of booze?"

He laughs. "You know me so well."

Great. Of course I'm right; what else would he need?

Before I can say anything else, he leans in closer. "Don't screw this up." With that, he is gone.

I groan, utterly mortified, and hurry away to go find Peeta. When I catch sight of him, he's over in the art section. I want to scream at him, but the last thing I want is for me to draw attention (though that's probably inevitable). I rush over to him and hit his arm, making his jump. At least he has the decency to look guilty. "What are you doing!" I'm whispering, but loudly.

He's sputtering, causing me more irritation. Now I don't feel bad at all for choosing to leave him to buy the things. I cross my arms and glare at him. "I found what we need. And to make it worse, Haymitch found me over there!"

He raised an eyebrow. "What was he doing over there?"

"I don't know, looking for booze. Don't change the topic!" I huff and turn away, ready to leave. "Go over to the feminine hygiene section. I'm leaving." I walk away before he can say anything else, happy to get out. I just hope he hides them well enough and goes to a quiet cashier, if that's possible. Definitely not the one I saw a couple months ago.

When I make it back to our house Haymitch is already outside, laughing when he sees me. I growl at him and slam the door behind me, hoping to never have to do this again.

Once my embarrassment dies down, I remember the first reason that we went to the store to begin with. I sit down at the kitchen table and put my head in my hands, suddenly feeling sick.


	8. Chapter 8

I sit on the couch while Peeta cooks dinner, working on my breathing. I remember Dr. Aurelius telling me this is a good relaxation technique. When this doesn't work, I decide to turn on the television, hoping some ridiculous show would be on to distract me.

"-seems they're doing better than good. Protecting from any 'accidents', though."

Wait, what? I turn up the volume and sit up, staring intently at the TV. I hope this isn't what I think it is-

"Maybe a wedding for our Star-Crossed Lovers isn't so far-fetch anymore." The woman winks, and she somewhere…that's definitely not the Capitol. I look closer, my heart pounding, when I notice something much too familiar. The entrance to Victor's Village. "Oh no. No no no no." The show a clip of Peeta in the store, trying to be as secretive as possible as he puts the package on the belt. It's then that there's a knock on the door. Shit. I have to warn Peeta before he opens the door, but when I hear the door unlock I realize it's already too late.

"I'm here with Peeta Mellark at his home in District 12," he looks inside and I duck down, but he's already seen me. "And Katniss Everdeen! Sharing a house, I see." He winks at the camera.

I don't know what to do. There's no way I'm getting in front of that camera, but I don't want Peeta to have to deal with the reporter all alone. I look at the TV and see Peeta on it, trying to keep a straight face. There has to be some way to get them to leave. I look around, perhaps for a sharp object – cross that, that'll just bring more trouble.

"Well, there's no use in having both houses barely broken in. It's more convenient this way." Good answer, Peeta.

The reporter grins, which I know can't be good. "Oh, I bet it is. Now we won't expect any scandals, will we? And where is our Mockingjay? I know I caught a glimpse of her." He looks around inside the house – at least as far as he can from outside – and I try to duck. "Ah! There she is." He motions for me to come over.

I look to Peeta, but he looks lost. I can't just hide away, or there will definitely be some 'scandal' they will think up. Have them prove how mentally disable I really am, which might get me carted back to the Capitol. I sigh and decide to suck it up, and walk over so I am beside Peeta, a scowl on my face. I never said I would be nice.

"Katniss, how nice it is to see you! And alive and happy." He turns to smile at the camera, then looks back at me. "So tell me, how has it been in 12 since the rebellion? Everything you hoped for?"

I don't know what to say. I can guarantee he's looking for something along the lines of it was once Peeta was back with me or the only thing I hope for is Peeta in my life. After all, what fun is talking about a rebellion when you have romance? I mentally scoff. I go from Star-Crossed lover to Mockingjay, and then back to Star-Crossed lover. The rebellion is over, so what else am I good for? When someone thinks of the Mockingjay, they think of a mental patient. When they think of me and my "better half", everything seems right again. "This is what all of Panem hoped for; the freedom to live as they please." Sufficient, and by the small nod Peeta sends my way, I know he thinks so too.

The reporter smiles politely, but it's easy to see that the answer doesn't do anything for him. "Wonderful! But enough about Panem as a whole; how about yourself?"

Now I'm stumped. I never had a way with words, and my earlier statement was more than I could ever hope to come up with on the spot. I start to sweat, knowing every second I'm silent, it's another second in a hole. I wish that Peeta would chime in, but we both know the question is directed at me. It's like they're trying to catch me off guard, since everyone in the country knows how good Peeta is with words. "It's…nice to be back in 12, my home. It can be hard, but it's hard for everyone. We're all just trying to adapt to this new government, and it's definitely for the better." I try to smile, but I'm overwhelmed with guilt. I'm saying this is better for everyone, but how about the ones that lost their lives? Finnick and Boggs. Prim.

No, I cannot cry on national television. Peeta seems to sense my distress, because he squeezes my hand in reassurance. The only thing that breaks me out of my reverie is how annoyed the reporter is beginning to look, trying to hide it behind a smile, and reminds me that I'm nowhere near off the hook.

"How about in the household? It seems very cozy in here." He winks.

There's no way to deflect this one. They know this is my house, and the fact that Peeta answered the door confirms how much we've grown back together. This time, Peeta comes to my rescue. "Katniss has definitely made it more homely than when the Capitol decorated it. It shows how well she's healing." He smiles, as charming as ever.

I'm about ready to say our goodbyes and lock the door, but we get cut off. "Now, how about that video?"

I freeze. Oh no. Please, no. The large smile on the reporter's face shows that he knows he's got us. I'm sure everyone in Panem has seen the video. I look at Peeta, but for once he doesn't have words. There's no way to turn this around.

Peeta finally sighs and decides to go the comedic route. "Well we're star-crossed lovers, right? But it's also an aspect we like to keep to ourselves. Thank you and goodbye." He inches the reporter out and bolts the door shut.

I sigh in relief, but my heart is racing. Maybe I'm overreacting – this will help in the long run, right? – but I also think about the people I actually know. I don't want to think about my mother knowing what goes on in my and Peeta's bedroom.

"C'mon, let's see what they came up with." Peeta grabs my hand and drags me to the couch. We sit and watch ourselves replayed, and then the news anchor back on. "And there we have it folks, our favorite lovers are not just looking for an audience. We wish them the best!"

I'm about to rant to Peeta when I hear him whimper. I turn and see him with his eyes open, but unseeing. His pupils are dilated, and I instantly know that he's in a flashback. I have no idea what to do. I see him gripping the couch cushion, though it doesn't seem to be doing much; this much is true when he cries out and falls to the floor, his head in his hands. "No no no. Yes. No, wrong. No."

I'm up and in front of him, eyes wide in fear. What am I supposed to do? He's fighting with himself, which is something I haven't seen since we were in 13. He's gripping his hair and rocking. "P-peeta?" I kneel down and slowly crawl over to him. I try to get him to focus on me, but he's gone. I slowly reach out one hand to put on his shoulder, but when I do, he grips my arm and pushes me back.

He's definitely gotten his strength back, because he's pushed me at least ten feet, and my wrist feels sprained. Should I get Haymitch? No, I can't leave. I can't let Dr. Aurelius know, either. All I do it sit here and stare as he continues to talk to himself, sometimes yelling out, feeling utterly helpless. I'm close to rocking, myself, as I wrap my arms around my legs without taking my eyes off of him. "Peeta, please. Come back." I feel like I'm about to cry, so I bury my head in my knees and take a few deep breaths. I can't cry. I can't.

There's a thump and my head shoots up, eyes wide, fearing the worst. Peeta is splayed out on the floor, out cold. At least, I think he blacked out. Panic overcomes me as I scramble over to him, because if he's not breathing I won't know what to do with myself. I'm shaking when I carefully lean over him, and see his chest moving up and down in slow, even motions. I breathe out and feel exhausted myself. Damn television; I'm near ready to rip the thing off the wall, but instead crawl up into Peeta's arms, wrapping one of my own around him waist, and stroke his hair while I wait for him to wake up.


	9. Chapter 9

When I wake up, all I feel is cold. This makes me shoot up, because I'm never cold when Peeta's with me, and when my head stops spinning I see him sitting on the couch, staring at me with sadness in his eyes. I think back to last night; the reporter, the video, the…flashback. "Peeta…"

He puts up a hand to stop me. "I…Katniss, I don't even know how to begin apologizing." He sighs and hangs his head in his hands.

I get up and slowly sit down next to him, rubbing his back sympathetically. "Peeta, it's all right." I keep my voice soft as I grab his chin to force him to look at me. "Please, don't blame yourself."

The complete self-loathing in his eyes breaks my heart. "Katniss, I could've hurt you! I haven't had one that bad in a while." He stands and begins pacing.

"What…what set you off?" I need to know what I need to stay away from to keep Peeta safe, because the state he's in right now is just awful.

He stops his pacing and looks at me with a sigh. "When the woman talked about it all being for the audience. It brought on memories; they all came so quickly that I couldn't control it, I told you how when they're triggered, they tend to be worse. I'm so sorry, Katniss."

I frown and stand up pulling him to sit back down. I wrap my arms around his torso, and notice a sharp pang in my left wrist. I hiss in pain, pulling it back to examine.

Peeta gingerly grabs my wrist, and I don't object. "Katniss…"

I pull my wrist back, trying to ignore the pain, and feel around to see how swollen it is. "It's fine, Peeta. Just a sprained wrist."

He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. I don't want him to blame himself; it was the Capitol.

I lay a hand on his shoulder and stare at him until he looks at me. "Peeta, don't. Please." He doesn't say anything so I sigh and sit back. We stay there in a deafening silence. I need to think of something, anything to break it; I have to. "Uh, Peeta? I'm kinda craving cookies."

He blinks at me, confused at my sudden statement. Our previous matter what pretty serious, so it's understandable that he's confused at my sudden change. Baking makes him feel better, and it's something we can do together. "Maybe I can help you make them? I really like chocolate chip."

He stares at me for a little longer, and then a ghost of a smile appeared, though his eyes were still sad. "All right. Let's go." He gets up and offers his hand, which I take gratefully.

I lean back against the counter and watch as Peeta gets out all of the ingredients and measuring cups. I raise an eyebrow at this – Peeta never uses measuring cups. "Why are you getting out the measuring cups?"

He turns to me with a small smirk. "Because you can't measure by eye like I can."

Oh, right. I'm helping. He motions for me to come over to the electric mixer and one large bowl he is in front of; apparently I'm doing all the work. "So, I'm making the cookies?" I raise an eyebrow and let him trap me against the counter.

He nodded. "Yep. You wanted them."

I smirk and roll my eyes. "Good to know you're feeling better."

A flash of sadness meets his eyes, but he hides it behind a smile. "Thanks to you."

Anyone would be stupid not to see that he's still bothered, but I'm just happy we don't have to confront it anymore; at least, not for now.

He moves away from me and pushes some buttons on one of the ovens; he's setting the temperature. I stand in front of the ingredients and bowls, completely at a loss. "Uh…"

He chuckles and comes back over to me, trapping me from behind again. "All right, we're going to beat the butter, sugar and brown sugar together in the mixer." I look around for all of the ingredients and set them in front of me, glancing back at Peeta for instructions.

He grabs the measuring cups and sets them in front of me, pointing to fractions on the cups and small spoons. "All right, these are the measurements. Now, we need to use the two sticks of butter, so take them out of their wrappings and drop them into the mixer."

I do as I'm told, then look back for the rest of the measurements.

"All right, now one cup of both sugar and brown sugar. When you measure out the brown sugar, you need to pack it in."

I measure out the white sugar and place it in, then look at the brown sugar with slight confusing. Okay, pack…I scoop some out and look at it, trying to figure out what he's talking about.

He chuckles and reaches around me, pushing down the sugar with his hand. "That's packing it. Now put some more in."

I follow orders and dump it in, as well. He turns on the mixer to a low speed. "We need to start out low so we don't make a mess all over the place."

I nod and watch, slightly fascinated. I've never baked with Peeta before, and it feels like he's sharing another part of himself with me. This makes me feel warm inside, which makes me blush and focus on the project I was currently working on.

He pulls out the egg carton and a small brown bottle. I cock my head.

"It's vanilla. It's often used in baking."

I nod and let him open up the carton and hand me two eggs. "Do you know how to crack these?"

"Yes, Peeta." I give him a look and turn back to the bowls. "Uhh…"

"The mixer, hun."

He's never said that to me before, and I'm surprised to think that it sounds…nice. Butterflies fill my stomach as I crack open the eggs and let them fall into the bowl. I hand the shells to Peeta to throw away, and he comes right back to hand me one of the measuring spoons. "All right, we're going to put in two teaspoons of the vanilla. Just fill this up twice."

I look down and see the label "1 tsp". I look back at Peeta flatly. "I can read, Peeta. I know I have to fill it twice."

He just smiles back at me and nods to the mixer. I give him one last look at measure it out, and then look back at him with a raised eyebrow for the next instruction.

He moves the mixer to a slightly faster speed, then grabs some other ingredients to set in front of me, and then goes over to the sink with a small bowl, letting a small amount of water into the bowl before going back over to me. He sets the bowl in front of me and grabs a small box. "All right Katniss, I just put about two teaspoons of hot water in this bowl. Now I need you to put in one teaspoon of the baking soda," that must be what the small box is, "in the water so it can dissolve."

I do as told and move it aside, then look back at him. "What now?" I was actually having a bit of fun; this really is relaxing. He tells me to wait until the baking soda is completely dissolved, and then grabs the large bowl, putting it away. "Why did you put that away?"

He moves back over to me and sets his chin on my shoulder. "I wasn't sure which recipe I wanted to use. Another one I have requires having all the dry ingredients in a separate bowl. I figured this one would be easier."

When he says the baking soda is dissolved, I put it in the mixer and then add a half teaspoon of salt. I furrow my brow and look back at him. "Why are we putting salt in cookies? Ew."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Actually, salt is almost always used in sweet baked goods."

I raise an eyebrow, but don't question it. He's been doing this since he was born.

"All right, now all we have to do is mix in three cups of flour and the bag of chocolate chips, and then we'll be done." He moves away to grab something out of one of the cupboards, and I turn back around to measure out the flour. I can do this without supervision. I smile as I measure out an exact cup of flour, since apparently they don't make a three cup, and pour it in the mixer.

"Wait, Kat-"

Flour poufs all over me, making me squeak in surprise.

I hear laughter behind me as Peeta turns off the mixer. "Sorry. I should have told you to turn it down a notch. Flour can be messy."

I blink at the mixer, then look up at him with a glare. The glare soon melts into an amused smile, and then I'm laughing. "Um…oops." There's flour everywhere. He laughs and finishes the measuring and mixing himself, probably not wanting me to make more of a mess.

"All right, I'm going to go ahead and spoon these on the cookie sheet. We'll put them in for ten minutes." I watch him fill the cookie sheet and put it in the oven, pushing the timer until it's up to ten minutes. He turns to me with a smile. "Now all we have to do is wait."

We stand in silence, him leaning against the counter beside me as we wait. I see him taking glances at me every now and again.

Before I know it, my top is off while Peeta attacks my lips with his. He's sucking and biting, then makes his way down my neck and collarbone, kneading my breasts. I moan and let my head drop back to offer him better access of my neck, jumping up on the counter to wrap my legs around his waist. I pull him forward and grind into him, making him moan.

"Oh, Katniss…" He involuntarily pushes against me, his hands gripping my breasts harder. One goes down to my pants and undoes the zipper, but I stop his hand.

I speak breathlessly, "Peeta, we can't…not until-"

"I know." He kisses up to my ear, whispering in it, "But that doesn't mean we can't do other things."

I shiver at his words and allow him to lift me up so he can pull off my pants and underwear in one swoop, pushing me back onto the counter. He slowly trails a hand down my body, making me groan in anticipation and fumble for his pants, but he swats my hand away.

"Not yet. I do you first."

All I can do is nod, because I've seemed to have lost my voice. I'm taken by surprise when he shoves two fingers into me, rubbing the outside with his thumb. I cry out in pleasure as he pumps faster, gripping his shoulders to what has to be the point of pain. He's moaning with me, and when I look down I can see how aroused he is.

"Oh-oh Peeta, more." I need his to go faster, to get me there quicker. The burning is growing stronger and stronger and I can feel myself almost to the edge as he moves faster. I'm just about to climax –

BEEP BEEP BEEP.

We pull apart in surprise and look toward the oven. I groan and fall against the counter as Peeta goes over to pull out the cookies with a sigh. What great timing.


	10. Chapter 10

I sit in the bathroom, huddled against the bathtub. I should have started my period two days ago. I'm officially freaking out. I have been checking every time I was anywhere near a bathroom for the past week, willing there to be blood. There needs to be. I can't get pregnant. No.

I hear a knock at the door, much too loud to be Peeta. I groan, but don't bother to get up. "Come in."

"It's locked, Sweetheart."

Great. Haymitch. Out of everyone, he's probably the last person I want to see at the moment, in the middle of my crisis. "Hold on!" I grumble as I get up, stomping all the way to the door. I swing it open, a frown on my face. "What?"

He pushes past me – making me huff – and sits of the lip of the tub, facing me with a smug look, his arms crossed. "Something's bothering you."

"And you smirk about it?"

He sighs and stands back up, clamping a hand on my shoulder. "What's on your mind?"

I'm not sure I want to tell him. Actually, I really don't want to tell him. But who else am I going to tell? I can't tell Peeta without hurting his feelings in some way – I just feel they would – and I'd rather not have anyone else knowing our business. Even though the cameras already did that for us. I sigh and give in. "My…er…period hasn't started yet." I cringe, realizing what I just explained to him.

He raises his eyebrows and clears his throat, obviously uncomfortable. "All right. How long?" He looks away from me, taking his hand from my shoulder.

I look down as well, swishing my foot across the tiles. "Two days."

There's silence. I look up to see Haymitch trying to keep a smile at bay, a snicker coming out. "Two days? Sweetheart, you really need to loosen up a bit."

I'm getting angry. Doesn't he see what is at stake? "I can't be late! I mean, I could be pregnant!"

He grabs both my shoulders and forces me to look at him. "It's been two days. That's hardly anything to worry about." He moves away, pacing. "Why don't you just take one of those tests?"

I shrug. "It's just…I don't know." Truth is, I'm scared. Scared of what the results might be.

He gives me a look. "Do yourself a favor and use one." He nods toward the medicine cabinet.

I shake my head and walk toward it. Peeta had gotten some a couple weeks back because I refused. I open it up with shaky hands and take one of the packages out; it's staring back at me, mocking me. "Maybe I should wait one more day."

He rolls his eyes and waves me off. "Whatever you want, just use the damn thing. I already have you two to bother me; don't need another. You do your thing." He motions toward the package. "I'm going home. Oh! And I took some of your booze, whole reason I came over."

And with that, he's gone.

I look back down, gripping the box so hard it's starting to cave in. "All right, Katniss, you can do this. Just…open up the box." I take in a shaky breath and tear the sides open, letting the small stick-like piece of plastic fall into my hands, as well as a small sheet of directions. I let the box drop to the floor and read the small slip of paper. "Minus means not and plus means…" Please let there be no plus sign.

I glare at the toilet as I walk over slowly, the stick in my grip. "Let's get this over with." I do my business and wrinkle my nose at the damp stick, and grab some toilet paper to set it on. At least I didn't drop the thing while I was using it. I flush the toilet and wash my hands, taking my spot back over by the tub.

Ten minutes. That's how long I have to wait. Ten whole minutes; I'm counting each second in my head. I tap my fingers on my knees while I wait, finally making it to the ten.

I stand up slowly, taking small steps over to the counter where it lay. I close my eyes as I tilt my head down. It's now or never. My eyes widen. "Thank fuck." I cover my mouth, not used to swearing, while I look down at the minus sign in the small window of the test. So, I'm not pregnant. Not only am I relieved that I'm not having a child, but now we can have…do that again. I didn't realize how much I wanted that again, until now.

"Katniss!"

I jump and turn around at the sound from downstairs. I grab the stick and throw it in the trash, then run down the stairs, putting a smile on my face. "Hey."

He smiles and kisses me softly. "Hey." He moves away and grabs my hand, leading me to the kitchen. "Come on. I'm starving."

I stand by the table while he prepares to make us dinner. We're quiet for a while, except for the sound of him whistling an unknown, chipper tune. Before I even think, I blurt out, "We can have sex again." My eyes widen and my hand clamps over my mouth. I really need to get a filter.

Before I can even process what is happening, his mouth is on mine. "Sounds good," he whispers huskily against my lips as he pulls me flush against him. I'm taken aback by his straight-forwardness, and it's easy to tell he's been waiting for this for a long time; easy to tell emotionally and physically.

I nip at his lower lip. "I can tell." I glance down, then back up to see a deep blush across his cheeks. Nerves are starting to set in, but I ignore them, instead focusing on the burning flame in my core.

He places hot kisses down my neck and collarbone, walking us toward the stairs clumsily.

I push him away. He looks at me questioningly, and before he can ask what's wrong, I put a finger to his lips. "Let's just go in the living room." It's something I wouldn't normally do, but at the moment the bedroom just seems too far away. I don't give him time to think, already pulling him to the couch only a few feet away.

"Katniss-"

"Sh." I push him onto the couch, reveling in the power I currently have over this man in front of me. He's breathing heavily and looking up at me, waiting for my next move. I suddenly realize that even though I enjoy the power, I don't exactly know what to do with it. I clear my throat and slowly crawl on top of him, and then lean down for a deep kiss.

He moves his hands up and down my back, lingering at the hemline of my shirt, silently asking for permission.

I sit up and quickly remove my shirt, only one goal in mind. I'm quick to remove his too, and then I'm on the floor, him on top as he rubs against me. "Ooo…" I run my fingers through his hair, letting my mind go blank when he peppers kisses across my chest. The next thing I know, my pants and underwear are gone and so are his, and he's taking a condom out of his pocket – he responds with that he had been stocking all his pants pockets with them in case of something like this - and positioning himself between my legs.

He leans down and whispers, "I love you." Then I feel full, fuller than ever before. He's moving hard, letting out all the pent up passion that had been slowly developing since our first time together.

All I hear is the clashing of skin against skin and our bated breaths, and feel an overwhelming ecstasy that keeps growing stronger. I cry out when he reaches a hand between us, down to where we're joined, and soon enough I am over the edge.

He's there too, moaning deep in his throat, and then dropping on top of me. We're both breathing heavily, unmoving except for our heaving chests. After we're calmed, he rolls off of me and turns his head to look me in the eyes. "That was…"

"Intense?" I want to laugh, not only at our inability to articulate what had just happened, but also the fact that I'm able to comfortably do this with him when it's only our second time, especially when our first was weeks ago.

He leans in and kisses me, a sweet smile on his face as he says again, "I love you."

I reach up and brush some hair out of his eyes. "I love you, too." I pull the blanket from the couch over us.

We fall asleep within moments.

FGHG

I groan when I'm awoken by a loud knock on the front door. Somehow we had managed to sleep through dinner and the rest of the night, and yet I still feel tired. Peeta needs to be at the bakery by ten, so when I look at the clock I'm relieved that it's only eight thirty. Still, it's longer than we usually sleep.

"Coming!" I stand up, making sure to keep Peeta covered, and start toward the door. I stop suddenly and look down. "Shit." I run back over to the living room and throw on my shirt and pants, not bothering with the undergarments, the knocking so insistent. "I'm coming!" I fling the door open, fixing my hair.

Who stands in front of me was not what I expected.

"Hey there, Catnip." Gale stands in the doorway, a small smile on his face. He's dressed in a nice shirt and a pair of light pants, Capitol-made.

When I look at him, I expect to feel anger. Betrayal. Hate. All because of Prim. But for some reason, there's nothing, and that's when I realize I don't blame him. At least, not anymore, now that he's right in front of me. "Gale? W-what are you doing here?"

He raises an eyebrow with a chuckle. "If that's how you greet guests, you really need to work on it." He peeks around inside. "Mind if I come in?"

I blink, then jump a little when I move to the side. "Oh, yeah. Come in." I watch as he walks inside, this man that is – was – my best friend. A changed man.

He turns to me with a smile, and we stand in silence, not too sure where to go from here.

I clear my throat and glance toward the kitchen. "Uh, do you want something to drink?"

"Water, please. I'll just go wait in the living room." He lingers there for a moment, then swivels around.

I'm making my way to the kitchen when I remember what's in the living room. I turn around quickly and run to the living room. "Wait!"

He's standing there, stock-still, as he looks down at what lies in front of the couch. His face is unreadable, but his eyes are stormy.

I walk over to stand next to him, staring at my sleeping boyfriend. My sleeping, naked, boyfriend. I have no idea what to say.

"Is that-"

"Yeah." I cross my arms and kneel down, gently tapping Peeta on the shoulder. I really don't want to wake him up to come face-to-face with Gale of all people, but I really don't want to handle this alone, either. "Peeta, wake up." I try to act calm, as if it's normal for my old friend – who used to, or maybe still does, love me – to walk in on the naked form of the man I'm sleeping with. Not to mention my missing undergarments.

He groans and stretches his arms, and I make sure the blanket stays in place over his bottom half. He blinks his eyes a couple times, looking at me. "Hey beautiful."

I smile but say nothing back, glancing over to my left, hoping he'll look.

He seems to get my signal because he looks, and his eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. "Gale." He almost stands up, but must remember he's without clothes, and has the decency to wrap himself up in the blanket before getting off the ground. He uses one hand to hold the blanket up, and the other out to shake Gale's hand.

Gale doesn't move. He just stares, right into Peeta. It makes me nervous, like I think he's going to do something he'll regret later.

"Ah, Peeta, how about you go upstairs and get into some fresh clothes. You have to go to the bakery soon," I say as I try to diffuse what is playing out before me.

Peeta slowly turns away from Gale and to me, a faux-smile on his face. "Right." He kisses me long and hard, his hand cupping my cheek. He pulls away and kisses my cheek. "I'll be back down in a bit." He glances toward Gale, but there's a tinge of something I've never seen before. Almost possessive.

I watch as he makes his way up the stairs, then slowly turn to Gale for a conversation I'm really not looking forward to having.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally have a new chapter! 
> 
> This one is full of Katniss and Gale's first conversation after the war. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

I keep my eyes on the stairs, not wanting to face Gale. I have no idea what to say to him; this was just so unexpected. I glance over at him, still faced toward the door, and open my mouth.

“Wait until he’s gone.” His tone is cold.

My mouth clamps shut again and I move my eyes back to the stairs, now willing for Peeta to come back down to break the silence. It was something he’s always been good at, though this may be a different situation. We stand there in silence, his foot tapping on the ground – it’s incessant, but I’m not exactly in the mood to pull up an unnecessary fight. I instead focus of the birds chirping outside the window and Peeta’s heavy footsteps as he walks around our bedroom.

There’s really no reason for him to be so angry with me. As I recall when we were in the midst of war, and he and Peeta were talking, he already predicted this. And, besides Haymitch, Peeta’s the only one that hasn’t left me. Now I’m starting to get angry – how dare he barge in here, into our lives? He didn’t even give a warning, just figured he could wind up on our doorstep – which, hopefully he realizes that it is our doorstep, not just mine. After all, Peeta is changing into fresh clothes up in our room. 

“All right, I have to head out.” Peeta’s rushing down the stairs, over to me. He pulls me to him and gives me a deep kiss, smiling when he pulls away. “I’ll see you after work.” 

I smile back, not daring to look over at Gale. “I’ll come by at lunch.” 

He nods and gives me one more peck, then a nod toward Gale as he heads out the door. He gives me a worried glance before he goes out the door, though I’m not sure if I was meant to see it or not.

I slowly look toward Gale, crossing my arms as I wait for him to speak first. There is no way I’m starting this conversation. 

He looks back at me, daring me to speak up, then sighs when he realizes that I’m not going to talk. “You know, it’s common courtesy to keep a living room clear of things like that when you have guests.” He motions toward the living room, a mild look of disgust on his face. 

I blush, because despite the fact he’s being spiteful, he makes a good point. If a stranger were to come in here and find that, I don’t want to know what scene would play out. I can’t find it in myself to apologize; who is he to just come here? And without notice, too. Instead, I step around the comment. “Hungry? I’ll get out some of Peeta’s cinnamon rolls.” I pretend not to notice the slight darkening in his eyes.

“No, thanks. I do miss our woods, though.” He glances at me, then the door. 

I suppress a snort. It hasn’t been our woods in a long time. I sigh and cross my arms. “Did you want to go? I wanted to hunt today, anyway.” I glance down at his nice Capitol outfit. “Unless you don’t want to get your clothes all dirty. Look pretty expensive.”

He shrugs. “I have plenty more.” Now he’s just sounding cocky, nothing like the Gale I grew up with. He acts as though I don’t know all about nice, expensive clothing, when I’ve been wearing them much longer than him.

I turn to the stairs, not bothering to look at him when I speak. “Let me just get changed, then.” I hurry up the stairs and into my and Peeta’s room, tugging out a t-shirt and pair of pants, and for the hell of it, one of Peeta’s jackets. I know it’s a low blow and slightly childish, but I’m too riled up right now to care. Plus, the worried look on Peeta’s face gave me more incentive. They both need to realize that I’ve chosen; that I had chosen a long time ago without knowing it. I throw on my hunting boots and hurry back down the stairs, Gale still standing in the exact same place.

He nods toward the door. “Ready to go.” 

I nod and rush past him, grabbing my bow and arrows by the door before swinging it open. “Let’s go.” 

We walk side-by-side in an uncomfortable silence, and I grip my bow tighter anxiously. 

“Why didn’t you keep the bow Beetee made you?”

I glance over at him incredulously. Seriously? “I’ve been doing just fine without it.”

He sighs. “But he made it just for you. I figured it would just be common courtesy, with all of his hard work-“

“Gale, shut up!” I stop and face him, eyes ablaze. Has he really become this dim, still blinded by the war? “Do you honestly believe I want to carry around a reminder? Of everything that we’ve, I’ve, lost-“ I can feel tears coming, so I cut myself off and start walking again. I hear Gale’s footsteps pick up again, but thankfully he is silent. 

I hear him sigh next to me. “Sorry, Catnip.”

The tone in his voice causes a strange sense of pain, like I’ve been thrust back in time; that there is hope my best friend is still in their somewhere. I calm down and continue walking, slower so that he can keep pace. “It’s fine.” The rest of the walk is silent, until we get to our rock from so long ago. We both sit down and just stare out through the trees, enjoying the small chirps of birds. I can even hear a few Mockingjays. 

Gale turns his head toward me, curiosity written on his face. “How have you been? In 12, I mean. Just…all of it.” 

I can see how awkward he feels, and it actually makes me feel better. At least he realizes things have changed. “They’re fine. It was tough at first, but Peeta helped me.” 

There’s a hint of a frown on his face as he turns to stare at the ground. His knee is bouncing up and down as if he is anxious. “Is that so?” His tone is innocent enough for me to acknowledge. 

“Yeah. He’s really made everything easier. Been there for me through it all.” I can’t help but cringe, knowing how that sounds. It implies that he hasn’t been there for me – which, in reality, he hasn’t. Not that I’ve made it easy for him to even try, and honestly I don’t blame him. I’m not exactly upset about him not being here, either; I can remember the relief I felt when Greasy Sae first told me that he was gone in District 2. 

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, which is much shorter than it used to be. His gaze does not leave the ground. “Catnip, I’m really sorry I haven’t been here-“

“No,” I cut him off. I don’t want him to apologize for something that I preferred. “I don’t mind that you left. Really. Maybe it was better this way, anyway.” I let out a breath and turn toward him, until he finally looks up at me. “Truth is…we’ve just grown apart. Maybe this would have happened, even if all of this went in another direction. Without the war.” I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t blame you for not coming back.”

He looks at me in surprise, clearly not expecting me to say that. The odd thing is, that he doesn’t look relieved. He actually looks a bit sad. “Well, that’s good then.” He turns away again. 

My curiosity has sparked; his reaction doesn’t make much sense. “What’s wrong?” My voice is slightly hard, but it’s more just an automatic reaction than anything. 

He shakes his head and turns away. “Nothing.” 

I huff and roll my eyes, standing up. We’re just dancing around issues, like…I’d rather not think about it. Maybe that’s one issue that doesn’t need to be resolved. “You came here to talk, so talk.” I cross my arms and give him a hard look when he turns back toward me. His next question only half-catches me by surprise. 

“If all of this hadn’t happened, who would you have chosen?” 

I swallow, the hard look being replaced with one of discomfort. I decide to play coy. “What do you mean?”

He gives me a look. “You know what I mean. I just…” He sighs, but keeps his eyes locked on mine. “I just need to know.”

We stare at each other for a long time. I know who I would have chosen. There’s no doubt in my mind. “Gale…” I look down and dig the toe of my shoe in the dirt, trying to figure out a way to word my thoughts. When I look back up at him, I’m met with inquiring eyes. Maybe even a little hopeful. “It was always him.” 

His jaw tightens and he crosses his arms defensively, now standing. He doesn’t make any move, so I decide to elaborate.

I bite my lip, almost afraid to continue. I know it’ll hurt, but it’s the truth. “Before all of this, before the games, I always figured we’d get married. Not out of passion, but out of necessity; I’d continue to hunt while you worked in the mines. Both our families would have a much better chance at survival.” I turn away. “I heard what you said to Peeta; about me choosing who I couldn’t survive without. Back then, maybe that would have been you, but now…” I look back at him. When he told Peeta that, I had taken offense to it. But now, I’m starting to question the meaning behind those words. “But that’s not what you meant, was it?” 

He stares at me for a long time. I take that as a no. 

I search his face, wanting some sort of reaction, but when I don’t get one I decide to continue. “If you meant it…if there were any actual feelings behind that, then it would be Peeta.” I swallow. “I love him. Much longer than I’m willing to admit.” I let out a small awkward laugh, almost ready to curl into myself.

His eyes are sad, but he nods. “Was there any chance? Any doubts?” It’s as if he’s staring straight into my soul, with how strong his gaze is. 

I just look at him for a moment. Was there? I already know the answer to that. “When I realized that I loved him, I also realized that I never loved you.” 

The pain on his face in that second is heart-breaking. I almost want to take it back, thinking that maybe not everything needs to be revealed. I think about if I were in his situation, and if Peeta had said that to me. Just the thought sends shivers down my spine. 

He laughs once, though it’s far from mirthful, and nods. “Wow. Okay.” His tone isn’t harsh. 

We stand there in silence, me looking at him, and him looking anywhere but at me. “I’m sorry.” 

He just nods, hands on his hips. “We should probably head back.” He looks back up at me and walks in my direction. He stops when he’s by my side, though facing the other way, and grips my shoulder once before continuing to walk away. 

I decide to leave him alone for now; I doubt he’s leaving just yet, considering he just got here. I look at the sun and realize that it’s around lunch time, so I begin to make my way to the bakery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this worked. 
> 
> Kudos and comments appreciated!


	12. Chapter 12

I open the door to the bakery, which is almost packed full since it’s around lunch time. I see one of Peeta’s hired workers at the register taking orders vigorously, and I’m surprised Peeta isn’t up here with him. When I come into his view, he simply nods toward the back, obviously too busy for pleasantries. At this point, the newcomers to District 12 have gotten a bit more used to having me around and don’t bother me nearly as much as they used to. And then there are the originals that knew me before I was put in a costume. 

I make my way to the back after weaving through customers and find Peeta pulling out a batch of fresh cheese buns from the oven. My mouth has already begun to water from just the sight, and once the scent hits me I wait for him to set them down so I can sneak behind him and snatch one up, since he hasn’t even noticed me yet. He’s humming to himself – albeit terribly – while he puts them on an oven mat, and then goes back to the oven to grab the next batch. 

I swiftly make my way across the room and grab a bun from the sheet, regardless of how it’s scorching my palm. 

“Katniss.” 

I freeze. I’m caught. I put on my cutest smile and turn toward him, hiding the cheese bun behind my back, though I’m sure he’s already noticed by the way his arms are crossed and the raised eyebrows. “Um…I came for lunch. You know, since I said I would and all.” 

He stares at me for a moment, which is beginning to make me nervous, then shakes his head with a small chuckle. “C’mere.” He’s already grabbed me in his arms, though, taking the cheese bun and setting it on the counter. I know what’s coming next, and I’m not sure I want it to. “How did your time with Gale go?” His voice has taken an edge of hostility, and his hold tightens around me. 

I lean into him and neck the crook of his neck. “Can we eat first?” 

He’s silent for a minute, then nods. “Sure. Just let me get these out to Brandon.” 

So that’s the guy’s name. I nod and pull away, letting him get everything situated. If it was any other lunch date, he’d probably be bustling around with customers for a while before setting us up, but due to recent events I doubt that will be the case. He’s out in the front and then right back within ten minutes. 

He takes off his apron and goes over to the fridge to pull out the lunch he has prepared – sandwiches and some of the fruit I brought back from the woods a couple days ago – and a plate of cheese buns. “Let’s go to my office.” 

I smile and take the cheese buns from him, snatching the one on the counter before following him farther back, to his small office. 

The minute the door closes, he’s on me. 

I quickly set the plate on his desk before he pushes me against the wall with his tongue prying my lips open. I squeak in surprise, which quickly turns into a moan as his hands trails up the back of my thighs, pulling my legs around his waist. He moves from my mouth and trails kisses across my jaw and neck, gently nipping even other one. “Peeta-“

“Sh.” He grinds himself into me, and I have to hide my face in the crook of his neck so I don’t alert the whole bakery of what is going on. It takes him less than a minute to get us both completely undressed, and then he’s pinning me to the floor.

When he enters me, it’s rough and so unbearably hot that I can’t stop myself from chanting his name every time he pushing into me. I’m sure he’s going to end up with scratches down his arms, but he doesn’t seem to care at the moment. “Oh, Peeta…” He leans down and nips at my neck while I hook my legs around his waist and lift my hips to make him go as far in as possible. 

He plants kisses up to my ear, where he whispers huskily, “Let me hear how much you like this.” 

I oblige, letting out the moans I was working so hard to keep down, and hoping that my voice won’t carry to the front. By the way Peeta’s acting, though, I’m guessing that the walls are soundproof enough. 

I’m almost there, when there’s a soft knock on the door. We both still and look at each other, and then Peeta sighs and leans down. “To be continued.” He turns to the door and says he’ll be there in a minute while he throws my clothes to me as he starts putting on his own. Once we’re completely dressed and mostly composed, he opens the door with a smile. “Brandon, what can I do for you? Everything okay out there?”

I hear a timid voice asking for some help since the customers were getting huffy at the wait. 

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have left you by yourself at this time of day.” He looks at the boy apologetically and then turns to me. “I’ll be back in a bit; you can go ahead and start without me.” He hesitates for a moment, then goes and kisses me quickly before he’s out the door. 

I sigh and sit down in his chair, taking a cheese bun to munch on while I wait. I decide to think over my conversation with Gale and how I’m going to word it for Peeta; I know that was the reason for the mind-blowing sex. The conversation was basic enough, and I probably told Gale exactly what Peeta would like to hear, so I can’t find a reason to leave anything out. 

The whole plate of cheese buns is almost gone by the time Peeta gets back. When he sees, he chuckles and shakes his head, and then takes out sandwiches out of their wrappings. I smile appreciatively and take a bite. “This is really good,” I say through a mouthful of food. 

“Thanks.” 

We eat in silence, knowing we’ll have to go through everything once we’re done. Might as well save energy. By the time we’re done I’m feeling confident. He takes the wrappings and empty plate and leaves the office for a moment. He comes back and walks over to me wordlessly, pulling me from his chair and onto the cozy couch in the corner of the room. 

I bite my lip and twirl my fingers, not exactly knowing how to start this. I’m grateful when he finally speaks up. “So, what’d you and Gale do?” His voice is a mixture of insecure and possessive, something I’m not particularly fond of. Then again, it’s nice to know that he can get possessive, but I definitely don’t want him insecure. 

I grab his hand in mine and smile. “Walked, talked. Went to the woods.” 

He nods slowly, waiting for me to continue. Almost waiting for me to tell him I’m leaving. That will not do.

I scoot a bit closer and run my thumb up and down the back of his hand. It seems to relax him some. “At first the conversation was kind of rocky; I mean, he just showed up. Didn’t exactly put me in the best mood.” I bite my lip and look down at our adjoined hands. “And then…then he just flat up asked. If none of this happened, he wanted to know if I would have still chosen you.” 

He tenses up, and when I look up I can see him struggling to keep his face blank. He swallows visibly, then motions for me to go on. 

“I told me that once I realized I loved you, I also realized that I never loved him.” I force him to look at me, one hand on his cheek. “It was always you. It hurt for him to hear, but he deserved the truth.” 

The smile that makes its way to his face warms my heart. He leans toward me and captures my lips in his own, untangling his fingers from mine so he can run them through my hair. He pulls away for only a moment, just to whisper, “I love you.” 

FGTHG

I had decided to stay at the bakery and help out in any way, which really just meant keep the dishes ready at a steady pace. I’m still not very comfortable with all of the people here, and baking…well, everyone knew that was out of the question. 

When we finally made it home, Haymitch was sitting on our steps, alcohol in hand. 

“Uh…what are you doing?” I look at him, confused. Sure, he’d go sit on his porch, but why is he here? 

He stands up and puts him arm around me, then begins walking away from the house again. “Let’s take a walk, Sweetheart.” He glances over at Peeta. “Don’t worry kid, I’ll have her back by curfew.” His comment makes me roll my eyes. 

We begin to walk, and after Peeta is out of view I shake his arm off and glare at him, crossing my arms and standing in front of him so he can’t walk. “What are you doing?”

He stares at me long and hard, as if trying to solve an impossible puzzle. “I saw what’s-his-face here earlier” he says, while motioning toward my and Peeta’s house. “What’d he want?” The expression on his face says it all. What did he want from you? 

I shake my head and look down. “Nothing. Just stopping by. Apologizing for killing my sister, and all.” 

He rolls his eyes and steps around me, pulling me to walk again. “You know he didn’t kill her, Sweetheart. That’s not it.” 

I huff. “Why do you care so much? It’s not your life!” 

He crosses his arms. “Because if you start this crap up, I have to listen to the boy complain about how he’s your ‘second choice’, and then I’m forced to jump in and save the day.” He shakes his head and mutters something about how he wishes we were like his geese. 

I roll my eyes and stop, but give in anyway, since honestly, there isn’t anything to hide. “He came to talk. We went to the forest when Peeta went to the bakery.” 

He stops and faces me, raising an eyebrow to have me continue. 

“He asked if thing ended up differently, who I would have chosen…” I look down, and then back up. “I was honest. I told him that it would have been Peeta no matter what.” I shrugged and looked him straight in the eyes to show that I’m not lying. 

He stands there for a minute, then nods with a smirk. “Good to know you finally figured that out.”

“What?” I hate it when he starts these things. 

He raises an eyebrow. “Sweetheart, you chose him a long time ago. You just couldn’t admit it to yourself,” he shrugs, “probably some mumbo jumbo about turning into your mother or something.”

“I should really get back to Peeta. We’re starting dinner soon; you can stay if you want.” I turn and begin walking back, not wanting to get into that conversation. If we start this, then I have to face all of my ‘underlying problems’. The exact reason why I ignore Dr. Aurelius’ phone calls. 

Haymitch is taking his time now that his little lecture is out. I continue the walk and am suddenly thinking about earlier, and am not ready to get back to Peeta. I’m started to regret asking Haymitch over for dinner...

“Peeta?” I open the door and peek in. I hear his voice from the kitchen and look over at Haymitch, who is now right behind me at the door. He shrugs. We both walk inside and head toward the kitchen, and what I see makes me come to a dead stop. 

Gale and Peeta are having a friendly conversation, both preparing stew. And they’re laughing. 

I feel Haymitch pat my shoulder. “Well, I’m going to leave this one to you, Sweetheart.” 

I’m about to turn and beg him – of all people – to stay, but Peeta decides to notice I’m there right at that second. “Katniss! How was your walk with Haymitch?” 

I turn to him and give him a look, figuring I’d get some sort of ‘he just came in, and now I can’t do anything’ reaction, but there was none. I shrug, but stay in place. “Fine.”

He nods, the smile still on his face, and then nods his head to the cupboard full of plates. “Do you mind getting out the bowls while we finish up the stew, hun? Three.” 

So he calls me hun, and invites Gale over for dinner? I’m not sure how to respond. Regardless, I pull out three bowls, and grab glasses and silverware. I glance over at the glass cabinets in the dining room. I have a feeling that this dinner is going to require a drink. I set everything down and glance over at my boyfriend, who is still chatting with Gale, and hurry over and grab two bottles of wine, just in case. 

Peeta looks over when he hears the bottles. “Oh, wine, that should go nice.” The oven goes off, and he pulls out a fresh batch of cheese buns. My cheese buns. For us. And sometimes Haymitch or Greasy Sae. Not Gale. 

I grab the plate from him with a forced smile and sit down. “Let’s eat!” 

Gale glances back at me, while still stirring the stew. “Just a couple minutes, the meat’s almost tender.”

I turn straight in my chair and take a cheese bun. I feel hands on my shoulder and a kiss on the top of my head. Peeta comes into view as he walks to the chair next to me. “We’re making your favorite.”

“Lamb stew!” 

I don’t even glance in Gale’s direction, too focused on trying to figure Peeta out. I give him a look, and he shrugs. I feel like I’m in that historic film from the time of America, something about Twilight Zone. I chew my cheese bun slowly, keeping my eyes down at my plate. 

Gale is taking the pot off the stove and carrying it over, the ladle handle sticking out. “All right, everyone get your bowls ready.” He comes over to me and scoops some in my stationary bowl, then Peeta’s. After he does his own, he puts it back on, but at a lower heat. “Just in case we want more.” 

I watch as they begin to eat. “Uh…I forgot the wine glasses. Cork screw, too.” I jump up from the table and hurry out to the cabinet, taking out three wine glasses that are next to the alcohol, and pulling a corkscrew out of the first drawer. The moment I get back, I’m opening up the first bottle of red and pouring a full glass. 

“Thanks, Katniss.” Peeta squeezes my hand and pours a little in his own. 

I see Gale eye him, and then turn to me with a smile. “Yeah, thanks Catnip.” He grabs the bottle from Peeta. 

Okay, so maybe not everything is going as well as I thought. 

I shake my head and take a gulp of my wine, staring out into space as I try to ignore their chatter. At this point, I’m not even hungry anymore. 

“Guess who called today.” 

I turn to Peeta, who is looking at me expectantly, clearing excited about telling me. “I don’t know. Who called?” Another gulp. 

“Johanna. Just checking in.” He smiles. “She’s doing well in Seven. Found a nice guy…or, at least a guy that can handle her.” He chuckles at his own joke. 

I’m actually surprised, and pretty excited, too. “When did she call? Just while I was on a walk?” I guess the walk was a lot longer than I expected. Then again, they were able to finish up this stew pretty quickly, too. 

He nodded. “She had left a message to call her back, so I did. Wanted to talk to you, apparently something good, so she’s gonna call sometime tomorrow.” 

I nod and smile. “I’ll be sure to be here, then.” I’m surprised how much I’ve come to enjoy Johanna’s company, despite her rude remarks and blunt attitude. In reality, she’s the only one – besides Haymitch – that tells me things straight, whether I want to hear it or not. 

“Johanna; you shared a room with her, right? The victor from District Seven,” Gale says around a mouthful of stew. 

I nod. “Yeah. We grew close, I guess.” Silence takes over, again. 

“So Gale, we never really talked about life in Two. How is it?” Peeta is acting so cordial, that I don’t even know what to do. What the hell happened while I was taking that damn walk? I curse Haymitch in my head. 

Gale shrugs. “It’s nice there. Everything’s changed in the districts’ so much; most of the stuff in Two is all military now. I have to travel to the Capitol a lot, too, though.” He motions outside. “And Twelve is turning into a medical district?” 

Peeta nods. “Shutting down all the mines, too.” 

I pour myself another glass of wine. 

“So, how about your bread company? How’s that working?” And here it comes. Gale is trying to show that he’s somehow better because of his stupid military job.

Peeta seems to catch on, too, and sits up a little taller. “It’s a bakery. And it’s doing very well; sometimes Katniss even comes in to help.” He smiles at me, and I smile back. 

Gale laughs. “That’s funny. In Two, the men always joke about it being a woman’s duty in the kitchen.” 

I think Peeta and I both tense at that, and I’m about to say something, but Peeta speaks up first. “A bit sexist, don’t you think? And our company has always been run by men, so I don’t see what you mean.” 

The laughter has stopped, which can’t be a good sign. Another glass it is. 

“We don’t mean disrespect, but it is kinda more known as a woman’s job. Definitely not Katniss, though.”

“What’s wrong with Katniss helping?” 

“Nothing, it’s just not her. She’s a hunter, not a baker.”

“People can change. And she still hunts; just comes to help every once in a while.”

I open the next bottle. 

FGTHG

Both bottles are gone, and I’m feeling a little light-headed. Not quite sure why, because I’m definitely not drunk. Maybe there was something in that stew. 

I watch as Gale and Peeta talk, but can’t exactly focus on what they’re saying. I’m getting a little annoyed at being left out, so I whisper over to Peeta. “Peeta, I need to tell you something.” 

I don’t know why Gale looks over, too. What does he have, bat ears? 

Peeta raises his eyebrows and smiles. “What’s that?” 

I lean in closer to him, perhaps a little too close, since I end up sprawled out on his lap. I feel him help me back up to my chair, which is now somehow closer. What I need to tell him is very important, though. Very, very important. But someone’s looking at me that’s not Peeta. Gale has an eyebrow raised, but this isn’t even his conversation. Why is he looking at me? “Don’t look at me!”

“All right Katniss, what is it that you needed to tell me?” Peeta is pulling me closer to him. I like it when he has his arms around me. It’s nice. And sometimes, sexy. Very. 

I sigh and fall into him, just because it’s no nice and cozy. I’m so happy I have him. He’s nice. “I just…I’m not very good with my feelings.” I nod; I wish the room would stop moving, though. I want to be face-to-face with Peeta, but I can’t do that sitting like this. 

“Oh! Katniss, sit down.” Somehow I’m in Peeta’s arms again, but now I’m in his lap. This works, though. We’re face-to-face. 

I put my hands on each side of his face, so that he has to look at me. “I just…I love you. I do. You’re the best thing ever.” 

He’s smiling at me, which is good. I love his smile. “I love you, too. But maybe we should get some sleep. Gale can stay in your mother’s old room.” 

“What?” I turn toward Gale. “Why are you staying here? You have a house. We’re not your babysitters!” I glare at him. 

“Katniss, we’ve all had some drinks an-“

“I am not drunk.”

“…I never said you were, but you did have a couple drinks.” Peeta runs his fingers through my hair, and it feels so nice that I let my head fall to his chest. “I just think it would be better that Gale stay the night, instead of walking home right now.” 

I swish my head over to Gale’s direction, and he nods. “If that’s okay. I’m not too bad, but I haven’t stood up yet, either.” 

“Pshh.” I wave my hand. “That’s ‘cause you’re drunk. You should learn to handle your liquor better, Gale.” I turn to Peeta. “Fine, he can stay.” 

He nods at me, then at Gale. “Then it’s settled. I’ll clean the kitchen tomorrow.” He kisses my forehead and stands up, but I’m still in his arms. It’s like I’m flying. I giggle. 

“I’ll, uh, just take care of the stew, then.” I let my head drop back and see Gale standing up, but he’s all swaying because he’s so drunk. The kitchen must be, too, because it’s swaying with him. 

“Thanks. Do you know where your room is?”

“Yeah. I’ve been here, before.” 

Peeta’s arms tense around me for a second. “All right. Good night.” He’s walking up the stairs, now. 

“I’m the Mockingjay again! I’m flyyyyiiing.” I want to get out of his arms because I want to fly, but his grip only tightens. But then I am flying, until I hit a comfy floor. I look down. Just kidding; comfy bed.

Peeta is over at our closet pulling out clothes, then comes over to me and coaxes me to sit up. I lean against him as he changes me in my pajamas, and the feel of his hands up my thighs is so incredibly wonderful, that I don’t want it to stop. 

I grab his hands and run them up my body, then slowly turn to face him. I look up at him; his eyes are like sapphires. “Peeta…” I slide a hand down the front of his pants and revel in his groan. I get as close to his ear as possible and whisper, “I want you.” I kiss him, and he’s not one to stop it. 

By the time we’re done, I can’t exactly remember how loud I was, but I’m sure Gale didn’t hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing drunk Katniss. It's just so much fun.


	13. Chapter 13

Gale had gone home a week ago, and I found out that he did in fact hear. Interesting way I found out, too, but Peeta always tells the story better. I called Johanna back the day after, feeling sick to my stomach and like I hadn't had water in days. She'd doing well – better than well, apparently. She told me about the new guy in her life. Johanna and I have always been alike in the sense of romance, so when she told me I was pleasantly surprised; not only because it was something I did not expect, but because when someone like us lets our guard down, it means that whoever responsible must be pretty damn special.

It is now Peeta's birthday. He's still working today, and he hasn't even brought it up, so I wonder if he even realizes it. Either way, with him working I can start getting everything set up for the surprise dinner I had decided to throw him a couple days after Gale left while talking to Haymitch. Therefore, I have to invite him, but Peeta would probably want him there, anyway.

I'm just getting back from hunting, catching a wild goose – hopefully not one of Haymitch's – to cook up for tonight. I've planned on the goose, potatoes, and some vegetables from the small garden we had planted out back; we need to use up what's out there right now, since winter is coming up quickly. I throw my gear down next to the front door and hang my coat on the hook, heading into the kitchen to pluck and gut the goose. While I do this, I finish planning the dinner in my head. My eyes widen in realization; the cake! Obviously I can't have Peeta make it…

Guess it's time for my second baking experience.

Peeta keeps all of his family's recipe books on a shelf in the study, so once I've finished the goose up and stashed it, and sterilize the kitchen, I head in and pull out one. "Hmm." I flip through, looking for a decent cake. I know his favorite is the white cake with chocolate frosting, so I'm happy when I find a recipe for the cake in the first few pages. Now, frosting. I grab a separate one, full of different fillings and frostings, and find one with the term fudge in it. Must be good, then. I shrug and head back to the kitchen to embark on the culinary adventure of my life.

I keep both books open on the kitchen table and take out all the appropriate ingredients for each recipe, separating the products unless they're used for both. "There's such thing as cake flour?" I shrug and reach in, grabbing a pink-tinted box with a white cake on it. "All right Katniss, don't mess up." I take a deep breath and take out a multitude of bowls and pans.

I get to work, and at first it seems pretty easy. The directions are simple to follow, and as long as I get the measurements right, things go smoothly. This is before I get to the flour. "Slowly…" I pour a little in the mixer, then turn it on the lowest notch. It mixes in nicely, and I slowly add the rest. I smile at my handy work; I'm actually pretty proud. I bet Peeta would be, too.

This was before I got to the frosting.

It called for what's called cocoa powder, and apparently it's just as difficult as flour, which would have been nice to know before I redecorated the kitchen in brown. "Dammit." I sigh and wet a washcloth, cleaning up the mess I made before continuing. I guess on how much more powder to put in since I'm not exactly sure how much I lost. In the end, it tastes good, so I'm satisfied.

When the cake comes out of the oven I let it cool for longer than is probably necessary, since I'm too scared to take it out of the pan. In the end, part of it came off, but I stuck it back on with frosting, and when I cover the rest of the cake as best as I can, it's mostly not visible. At least, to the eye of a non-baker. "Everything went better than expected." I put the cake aside and begin to clean up the kitchen.

"Katniss?"

My eyes widen. Shit. I turn to the clock and see that it's already five o'clock. "Uh, in the kitchen! But don't come in yet!" I cringe; not exactly subtle. I begin to panic because I haven't even began to cook dinner. Maybe...Haymitch! He can go hang out with Haymitch for a while. Yeah. I rush out of the kitchen and over to him, giving him a quick kiss and keeping him from taking off his jacket. "Haymitch actually asked me to tell you to go over to his place when you got home. Completely forgot."

He raises an eyebrow, and I'm sure he's not buying it until he shrugs his shoulders. "All right. I'll be back, I guess." He gives me a quick kiss and heads back out the door, and I sigh in relief. I know Haymitch will catch on, so I don't have to worry about calling him in warning.

I cook everything up as quickly as I can, and just in time too, because they're walking through the door the second I put the plates down. Peeta blinks and looks up at me.

I smile and wring my hands. "Happy birthday."

I feel nervous when he continues to stare, but then a broad grin breaks out on his face and he gives me a hug. "This is great, Katniss. Thank you." He looks over my shoulder and sees the cake, making his smile even larger. "And you baked a cake!"

I nod and look down at the floor, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "Yeah. But we have to eat dinner first!" I motion for everyone to sit down and serve out the food.

"This is great, Katniss. Really."

I smile at Peeta and reach over to grab his hand, giving it a small squeeze. "I'm glad you like it."

I hear Haymitch scoff to my left. "I didn't come to watch you two get sappy on me, Sweetheart."

I glare in his direction and go back to my dinner, not looking at either of them. Haymitch and Peeta make polite conversation as I begin to clean the table and put out smaller plates. "All right, cake and then presents."

Peeta raises his eyebrows. "I get presents, too?"

I roll my eyes at him. "Of course. It's you birthday. Now, cake." I bring the cake over and am about to cut it, when Haymitch clears his throat. I give him a hard look. "What?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Aren't we supposed to put candles in there?"

Oh, right. I glare at him one more time, not wanting to admit he's right, and go to grab the birthday candles. I stick them in and light them with the matches in one of the kitchen drawers, and place the cake in front of Peeta. "I think you make a wish." I also think there's some song to go with it, but I never had cake growing up so we never did the traditional birthday party. I know Haymitch won't say anything since he probably hates singing, and Peeta's too nice to correct me. He blows out the candles and I serve the cake.

"Wow, Katniss. I'm impressed." Peeta smiles at me. "Maybe I should hire you at the bakery."

I scoff. "Yeah, this is a one-time thing. It was hard enough as is." I decide to leave out my little mishap with the frosting.

Haymitch nods at Peeta's comment. "Gotta admit, it's pretty good."

I smile. "Thanks." It's not everyday Haymitch gives a compliment, after all.

We finish in silence and Peeta starts to the collect the plates. I grab his arm, and he looks at me in confusion. "It's your birthday, Peeta. You get to relax." I push him toward the living room. "You and Haymitch go out in the living room." I turn to Haymitch. "Go grab the presents."

They leave and I finish up cleaning the table and do the dishes quickly, so I don't have to do them later. When I walk into the living room, Peeta sits up a little straighter and pats the spot next to him on the couch. I smile and sit next to him, then motion toward the presents. "Go ahead. Do Haymitch's first." He nods and grabs the poorly wrapped one, opening it up in one tear. I blink, then turn to Haymitch with bemusement.

It's a bottle of whiskey, something neither of us drink. Peeta scratches his head and smiles at Haymitch. "Ah, thanks- wait." He shakes his head and motions for Haymitch to take it. "Here ya go."

Haymitch grabs it and nods toward Peeta. "Why, thank you."

I roll my eyes. "All right, grab the other one."

He chuckles and takes it in his hand, being more gently with this one. When he finally gets it open, he blinks. "Wait, isn't this…"

"The locket you gave me in the Quell? Yeah." I nod toward it. "Open it up." I bite my lip nervously, afraid he hates it, but when he opens in up, he smiles. I put a picture of us in it when we were at the lake together.

"Katniss, this is wonderful. Thank you." He leans in and gives me a lingering kiss and we ignore Haymitch's gagging noises. "I wonder what we should put in the other side."

I shrug. I couldn't think of anything – or anyone – to put in the other one. I thought about having a picture of his family, but I didn't know where to get one without asking him. "I guess we'll figure it out some other time." I smile and run my thumb over his hand, and he smiles back.

"Well, if we're done here, I have a date with this one right here." He holds up the bottle and stands up.

"Yeah, we're done. Bye." I'm happy to get rid of him; it really is hard to spend a long amount of time with him. He waves to us and heads out, leaving Peeta and I alone.

"I really do like this gift, Katniss. Thank you." He looks me up and down, his sweet smile darkening. "But, I was wondering if I could have one more gift…"

I raise my eyebrows, surprised at his boldness. I then smile and push him down on the couch, laying on top of him to kiss him full on the mouth. "Maybe I have something else in mind." He raises an eyebrow when I climb off of him and pull him to he's sitting up. I almost laugh at how wide his eyes get when I sink down to my knees and start to unzip his pants. I look up at him innocently as I pull down his pants to his knees, grabbing him in my hand. He's already half hard.

"Oh, Katniss." He lets his head fall against the back of the couch with his eyes closed when I take him in my mouth. I'm pumping him in and out, using one hand to where my mouth can't reach. I listen to his moans, figuring out a good pattern. He's running his fingers through my hair, being careful not to push me down, though I can see it's taking restraint.

I moan, and the vibrations cause him to gasp and then moan low in his throat. I take my mouth off of him and pump him a few times before diving back in, sucking the top, then moving back down his length.

"Katniss, I'm about to…" He's trying to move me away, but I push his hand back as I suck him harder, encouraging him to finish. When he does, the taste isn't as bad as I expected, and when I wipe my mouth and look up at him, he's looking back in wonder. "That was amazing." He lets out a breathy laugh, pulling up into a kiss.

I smile against his lips. "I'm glad."

He grabs onto me and hoists himself up, carrying me bridal style toward the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long update! I'm finally home for college (even though I've been back for a week...my bad). 
> 
> Anyway, next chapter is Christmas fun, so I'm going to try and get it up before Christmas. No promises, though. If it's not, I'll probably add in New Year's.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter, all New Year's fun. 
> 
> Enjoy and Happy New Year's (Eve)!

It’s now December 31st, or New Year’s Eve. It’s hard to believe that we’ve been back for over a year, and have actually been together for almost seven months. Normally, none of this would mean a thing to me, but this year Peeta has decided to throw a New Year’s party/fund in the name of the bakery for all of District Twelve. Not only will it bring the District together, but for every person that comes, we’ll donate $100 to the orphanage, who still has trouble getting food for all of the children, and good conditions concerning bedding and whatnot. So many adults had died in the bombing, and despite the better circumstances in the Districts, there are simply too many orphans to keep up the best care available. If enough people come, we should raise enough money to keep them sustained for more than a while. Of course, we could just donate a bunch of money right off the bat, but as I said, Peeta wants to bring the District together. The new Justice Building was kind enough to let us rent out their community hall so we’ll have enough room for everyone. 

“All right, I went shopping and got all the drinks we’re going to need. Some cocktail foods and stuff, too.” Peeta drops the bags on one of the side tables in the hall, and I’m impressed that he carried all of those bags by himself. I didn’t think it would be humanly possible with how many there are. It was already six o’ clock and the party started at eight-thirty, so we got dressed right before coming over here, and then Peeta went shopping. I’m sure that if people didn’t know about the party, they’d be a bit confused about him shopping in a tux. I always make him unbutton the top few buttons and get rid of the bowtie, though, because – and I can’t believe I’m saying this – I think he looks unbelievably sexy. 

I decided to actually dress up for this party. The dress is covered in small silver sequins and is short sleeved, so I definitely sparkle. It comes mid-thigh and has an open back; one of Cinna’s creations that I keep in the house. It’s not something I’d usually wear, but I figured when the opportunity arises, might as well make the best of it – decided to keep my hair in my braid, though. I’m sure we’re a bit overkill since we are in District 12, but there are the few Capitol folk that moved here, mostly just because we’re here. All those Capitol parties messed us up. Especially these silver heels I’m walking in. I still can’t believe I can walk in them, no matter how low the heel is. 

I grab the drinks and ice cream I’ll use to make the punch, while Peeta places some snacks in bowls, and then other foods on platters. I think I even saw that raw fish thing we had in District Four, sushi, though not all of it is raw. We spread everything out on the table, and then put all of the champagne bottles and glasses on a separate table. We have a mini bar, which Haymitch offered his help on (no doubt he knows how to make a good amount of drinks, and this way he doesn’t have to socialize as much, which will be good for everyone). 

On a table next to the food is where Peeta has laid out all of his pastries – macaroons, cupcakes, a New Year’s cake that will be cut later, an assortment of cookies, slices of cinnamon bread, pie that is already sliced, and different types of brownies. We made sure to place what’s in each item, in case of allergies. 

There are tables all along the sides so that a dance floor is cleared, silver streamers and decorations adorning every inch. We have a bucket of New Year’s toys as well, with silver horns and tiaras. There’s a large television that will be lowered from the center of the ceiling for the countdown. In the Capitol they adopted some sort of traditions from the days of America where they drop a large ball at the new year, so we’ll televise it for the countdown.

Once everything is laid out and the music is set up, it’s already eight o’clock. Peeta comes over to me and puts an arm around my shoulders, admiring our work. “I think we’ve done a pretty good job.” 

I nod and lean into him with a sigh. “Let’s just hope things don’t get too wild.” 

He chuckles and kisses my forehead, right before we hear the clacking of swish of feet walking across the floor. We turn to see Haymitch walking through, surprisingly only half drunk. When I raise an eyebrow, he shrugs. “Rather drink of your alcohol so I don’t have to buy my own.” He heads to the mini bar without another word. 

I look at Peeta and roll my eyes. “Was it really a good idea to give him this job? He’ll end up spilling drinks all over the place.” 

Peeta smiles and shakes his head. “Don’t worry, I hired one of the men at the bakery to help out for that exact reason.” 

FGTHG

A good 300 people show up to the party. You can definitely tell the difference between the District and Capitol citizens by what they’re wearing, and sometimes the color of their skin. I think I even saw one woman with rainbow skin. Peeta and I separated a while ago, both being dragged around by different people. 

“Katniss Everdeen! Oh my gawd!” 

I turn around swiftly when I hear my voice, and fight off rolling my eyes when a petite woman with bright pink hair and a light-up dress bounces over to me. Her heels have to be at least five inches tall. I put on my best fake smile and clasp my hands in front of me. “Yes?” 

She’s now fanning herself once she’s in front of me, an almost dreamy smile on her face. “I’ve just wanted to meet you for so long. I moved here a couple months ago to hope we’d become best friends, but I never see you! I mean, I don’t know how you lived here for so long! I was almost ready to go back, but then you threw this party, and I just knew for sure I’d see you here!” She’s speaking so quickly I’m surprised I even caught all that she said. 

“Um…here I am, I guess.” I’ve never really known how to deal with these kinds of people, which is unfortunate because there are so many of them

She grabs my hand and shakes it, her smile so wide it looks like a grimace. “That dress is gorgeous! Who is it made by?” 

“Cinna made it for me.” 

She looks only slightly sympathetic, and maybe a little mad. “Ugh, it sucks that he died. His clothes would be sooo in!” 

Now I want to slap this woman. Everything is just materialistic for these people, like they lack full human emotion in their genes. It pisses me off to no end. “I’m sure it would. He was an amazing stylist.” 

She nods once and then dives into her enormous clutch, and I’m kind of afraid of what she’ll pull out. When she comes back with a piece of paper and a fuzzy pen and shoves it toward me, I’m relieved. I was almost expected a “friends forever” bracelet or something. “Could you please sign this? I would be so happy. You have no idea.” 

I grab the pen and quickly sign it, then shove it back in her hand. “All right. Well, I really need to find Peeta, so maybe I’ll see you later.” Or maybe not. 

Her eyes glisten, and I know what’s coming. “Oh, he is so cute! And you guys…when are you getting married? Will you invite me? Oh my gawd, I would be so honored to go.” 

I blink, then turn and walk away. I’m not even going to start on that. I start walking through the crowd and am stopped again by a male hand. I’m about to come up with some excuse to leave, when I see who it is. “Oh, Thom. Hey.” 

He smiles at me and nods. “How’re you? I haven’t really seen you around in a bit, except around the time Gale stopped by.” 

I smile and shrug. “I guess I’ve been just staying in, apparently more than I realized. How about you?” I really have been a bit of recluse ever since Peeta’s birthday, spending most of my time hunting. Whenever I wanted to offer meat up to people in the District, Peeta usually brings it since he has to go to work, anyway. So, it’s not so much that I just don’t want to, but there’s really no need to. 

“Pretty well. Ah, got engaged.” 

I’m surprised, since I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend. My smile is genuine when I congratulate him, and I ask him where his fiancée is. 

He looks behind him and points to a pretty blonde girl talking to an older man. “Her. I guess she was a merchant daughter, but you know how that all went.” 

I nod sympathetically. We all knew how that went, the one way our District was split. “I’m glad you found someone. When’s the wedding?”

He shrugs. “We actually just got engaged, so we haven’t figured all that out yet. But when we do, you and Peeta and invited. Maybe even Haymitch, for entertainment.”

I laugh at that and nod. “You’d definitely get that, all right. Might as well just invite him to the reception for some real fun.” We share another laugh, when the girl calls him. 

He turns and nods. “Well, I’ll see you around. Don’t be a stranger.” 

I nod and say goodbye. The last time I heard those words was with Plutarch, but this time I intend to keep the promise. I continue on my quest to find my boyfriend, actually making it through. When I find him, he’s talking to one of the guys he works with. When he sees me, his smile becomes larger and he waves me over. I come over to them and greet the man. 

“I’ve been looking for you. Seems we’re pretty popular, though.” He winks and grabs my hand. I let him, even though I’m a bit uncomfortable by the public display. Now that it’s real, it makes everything different; I might as well get used to it, though. 

“You’re telling me. Some crazy Capitol girl stopped me and told me a wonderful story about how she moved here so we could be best friends.” 

He laughs loudly at that. “I’m pretty sure half of the Capitol population wants to be your best friend.” 

We all talk for a while, and then I excuse myself to go get a drink at the bar. There’s this fruity concoction Haymitch made me once that was absolutely delicious; you couldn’t even tell there was alcohol in it. 

I sit on one of the stools next to a man that looks Capitol, and order the drink. As I wait there, I can feel the man’s eyes on me. I try to ignore it, but it’s starting to get unnerving, so I finally glance over at him. 

When he catches my eye, he sees that as an opportunity to introduce himself. “Hi, I’m Titus.” He sounds somewhere between nervous and excited, and he’s now unable to meet my eyes. 

“Um, hi.” I never know whether I should introduce myself out of common courtesy, or just leave it be since it’s no secret that everyone knows who we are. We sit there in silence for a bit. I bounce my leg up and down on the ring around the bar stool, wishing Haymitch would hurry. 

Everything happens so quickly.

The man is right next to me and pulling out his wallet. I see a picture of me right in the front, which he takes out and sets in front of me. He grabs a pen from the table over and sets it on top. “Could you sign this for me? I just absolutely love you, I’m so sorry. You probably hate this, oh I’m sorry, but could you?” He continues to ramble on a bit before turning red and glancing away. 

I look at the picture warily, since it’s not often that you meet a stranger with a picture of you in their wallet. It’s a picture of me at the second Quarter Quell, in my Mockingjay dress that sealed Cinna’s fate. I never really got to look at the whole thing, or appreciate it, since I was wearing it and I was so worried about Cinna. It’s absolutely beautiful; I truly did look like a Mockingjay. 

I clear my thoughts and sign in quickly, sliding it over to him. “Uh, here. Signed the picture you have of me in your wallet…” Just then Haymitch has my drink, and I glare at the smirk he’s giving me. “Gotta go!” I flash an awkward smile at the man and one more glare at Haymitch, then hurry back over to Peeta. 

When I find him he’s by the pastries, seemingly explaining something to one of our guests. I scurry next to him and smile at the woman he’s talking to, then take him aside. “You have no idea what just happened?”

He raises an eyebrow with a smirk. “Worse than before?” 

I think it over for a minute, then nod. “You can say that.” I clear my throat and lean closer so no one can hear me. “There’s a man that carries a picture of me in his wallet. He had me sign it.” I look at him, waiting for a reaction.

I can see he’s hiding a smirk, and his eyes twinkle. “Was it hot?” 

I huff and hit him on the arm, but I’m not mad. The situation is simply too odd to actually be mad. I open my mouth to say something, when cheering starts. I look up and see that the television is being lowered, which means it’s almost time for the ball drop. 

When I look at Peeta, he’s smiling. “Time to start the new year, huh?” He pulls me to him as we both watch the telecast start. They talk a little about the old tradition while we wait the ten minutes, and then the countdown is starting. Everyone’s chanting, and even I decide to join in. 

When the countdown is over, everyone is cheering and blowing their horns, so I take the opportunity to share a lingering kiss with Peeta. 

He smiles and says, “Happy New Year.”


	15. Chapter 15

~One Year Later~

Things have been going so well me Peeta and me it is literally unnatural. His flashbacks have improved to as much as once a month, and the bakery is thriving more than it has ever been – he’s even made some deliveries to the Capitol. I know his baking is definitely good enough to be sold all over the country, but I also can’t help but think that it has to do with who he is, too. Peeta Mellark’s baked goods? Not only delicious, but his hands had touched them – now that’s a treat. 

I sit in front of the fire in our living room, a mug of hot chocolate in my hands as I wait for Peeta to come home from the bakery. It’s nearing four, so it should only be another hour and a half. Usually he’s the one to make my drink for me, but since he knows how much I like it, he taught me for when he’s not here, or namely when he’s at work. 

I close my eyes and allow my head to fall back against the rocking chair, and gently push one foot forward to cause the chair to sway. The fire’s heat feels wonderful against my skin, good enough to lull me to sleep, so I carefully set my mug down next to the chair. 

I’m woken up a kiss on the forehead. I flutter my eyes open and am met with Peeta’s kind smile. “Hey. How was work?” I sit up straighter and run my fingers through my hair. 

Before he answers, he lifts me off of the chair and sits down, placing me back down on his lap. “Painless. Business was a little slow today due to the storm, so I brought home some chocolate chip cookies.” 

My eyes brighten. I sit up and face him. “With peanut butter?” I’ve always adored his peanut butter chocolate chip cookies; almost as much as his cheese buns. 

He smiles and nods. “With peanut butter. They’re in the kitchen.” 

I’m off his lap in an instant, going into the kitchen to grab one out of the plastic-covered plate. I take a bite; they’re still warm, surprisingly, and the melted chocolate on my tongue is orgasmic. “Mmm…”

“I can recall many other times where you’ve made that same sound…” Arms encircle my waist and a kiss is place in the crook of my neck. 

I bring one hand up to smack him on the arm. “Leave me to eat my cookie in peace.”

He sighs dramatically and lets go of me. “Fine. I’ll start dinner.” 

I snort and finish my cookie, then walk over to him to help take out the ingredients. I had caught a deer the week before, so we’ve had plenty to go around; he must have taken some out to thaw this morning. “Deer soup sound good? I think we have some chicken stock in the cupboard.” 

He nods and smiles, setting the meat on the counter. “You start with that while I get out the ingredients for the soup.” 

I nod and get to work. It’s amazing how easy this is nowadays, cooking together. But really, it’s not just cooking: it’s how we clean, sleep, bathe (most of the time), and other normal, everyday activities. Doctor Aurelius would say we’re healing.

We continue cooking in a comfortable silence, working together to get everything together and cooked. In the end, we end up with a pot full of soup and a large cookie sheet with cheese buns. I scan over the food before looking over at Peeta. “We should give Haymitch some leftovers. I would offer to have him over, but I don’t want to.” 

He chuckles and gives me a light push before getting out bowls. “We should invite him over one of these days, Katniss.” 

I raise an eyebrow and cross my arms. “Yeah, one of these days. Just not today.” I’m ready for a nice, quiet dinner with my boyfriend, without having snide remarks thrown at me every second. Not that I don’t throw them back, but then Peeta needs to become the mediator, which never ends well. No, I think we’re good alone.

“Here you go.” He sets a bowl down at my spot on the table, then takes out a paper towel to set two cheese buns down on. 

He’s always so thoughtful, even with the smallest things like getting me dinner after being at work all day. I smile and give him a kiss. “Thank you.” I sit down, wait for him to get his own, then dig in. 

“I finally taught Brandon how to make that fudge frosting you used on my birthday cake,” he says around a mouth full of soup. We always have conversations like this at the dinner table; light. 

I nod for him to go on while munching on a cheese bun. 

He’s smiling, probably recalling something Brandon did. He’s become somewhat of a side-kick to Peeta over the months, ready to learn anything and everything Peeta is willing to teach. “Well, he apparently didn’t realize how light the cocoa powder is…” He laughs. “You should have seen his face when it flew everywhere.” He shakes his head with a grim on his face.

I blush, remembering me having a similar experience. “Yeah…crazy.” 

He looks up at me and it’s really starting to unnerve me, like he’s trying to figure me out. “The same thing happened to you, didn’t it?”

I look offended and wave him off. “What? No. I knew it would fly out.” The problem with me is that I’m an awful liar, which becomes apparent when he starts to laugh again. 

“All right Katniss, whatever you say.” I can tell he doesn’t believe me, since that grin is still on his face.

I scowl at him, which only makes him to laugh again. 

We finish eating and clean up before I head up to take a shower. I feel like I haven’t done anything today, but it’s strangely relaxing. I take my time washing off, enjoying the steaming water. 

When I finish up and come out, Peeta’s already in bed, reading a book with the lamp on his side on. He looks up and smiles at me before going back to his reading, but not before looking at the drawer that I usually take out one of his oversized shirts to sleep in. It’s odd, the way he looked at it; almost nervous. I blink, then continue on to take one out. 

I hear something drop. My brow furrows as I look down, but my confusion just intensifies when I see a black box on the ground. “Peeta, what-“

“Just open it.” His voice isn’t sweet, but more demanding, yet insecure. I have absolutely no idea what is going on. 

I give him a look and then pick it up, opening it slowly. When I see what’s inside, I almost stop breathing.

It’s a ring. Silver, with diamonds set around the whole band and one large diamond in the middle. It’s absolutely beautiful, and I absolutely know what it means.

“Katniss?” 

I startle slightly, not expecting him to be right behind me. I keep my eyes down at the ring, trying to feel anything. Or more so, decipher what I’m feeling. All I can think about is spending the rest of my life with this man, and the more I think about it the more I realize what my answer is. “Yes.” 

He’s silent, then turns me around. He’s shaking, but smiling. “I haven’t even asked you yet,” he says in a hushed tone, then lets out a breathy laugh. 

I smile and shake my head, giving him the ring. “Put it on me.” 

His smile is so bright that I feel myself warm all over. He slips it on, still shaking, then brings me in for a kiss. “I love you so much,” he says after pulling away. 

I bury my head in his chest and tell him the same, looking at my ring out of the corner of my eye. I’m ready to start this next chapter of my life; ready to move forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, Peeniss wedding! 
> 
> Read and Review!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. It's been forever. Um...I love you guys! Please still love me!
> 
> ALSO I HAVE SOMETHING I WANT TO SHARE: now that I have your attention, if anyone of FF.net wants to join a super awesome SYOT forum, please message me. I can tell you the spots we have open and give you the form to make your own tribute :)   
> Mmk? Thanks.
> 
> Please enjoy some fun time with Effie! I don't think I've used her yet in my story, and I love her.

"Why do we even need flowers? Honestly, this whole party thing is ridiculous." I lay my head down on the table where Effie has placed at least twenty different books of flowers.

The Capitol is throwing us a wedding. Against our wills, they are throwing it, but at least Effie is the one here to help us out; a wedding planner of sorts, I guess. At first, Peeta and I tried to keep the engagement as low-key as possible; we only told Haymitch and my mother. Things always go down the line, though. My mother lives in a completely different district, so things can probably end up heard that weren't supposed to, and I'm sure Haymitch told Effie. In the end, the Capitol found out, of course. Plutarch bugged us to no end, even coming out to Twelve until we agreed. The agreement consists of a SMALL wedding party and our newlywed life being left completely alone, and we were able to pick our own wedding date, which we had already decided on; we're getting married on June 23rd, two months from now.

"Katniss, we must pick out the flowers! We still need to do cake testing – Peeta has made up plenty of choices – and figure out the wedding colors. Oh dear, we barely have time." She looks down at her small electronic device and pulls out a pen for the pad, then begins to move things around. "If we put this here…and here…perfect!"

I roll my eyes. "We'll get everything done, Effie. It won't take that long. It's not that big of a deal."

I swear I have never seen her eyes get so wide. "Katniss, how dare you say that about your own wedding! Oh, I just don't know what to do with you, dear." She looks back down at her device and slides the pen across it. While still looking down, she says, "The bridesmaids are coming in tomorrow to pick out the dresses, and we must figure out when we shall prepare your wedding shower. Perhaps three weeks from now? Yes. Three weeks."

I sigh and lift my head back up, propping it with my hand, and my elbow on the table. "Let's just get these flowers done." I flip through the pages of the one I was looking at, barely skimming it. Earlier in the day I heard Effie talking with Haymitch.

"Stay away from the roses Effie. Take 'em out."

"Perhaps just the white ones? They are just so beautiful Haymitch!"

"None. That's the end of it."

I've never been more thankful of him in my life. Despite his crude remarks, I know he is truly happy for Peeta and me.

I've been flipping through while in thought, so when I snap the book shut, I have no idea what I went through. "Can't we just wait for Peeta? We can do it after the cake and he can pick it out."

Effie's eyes widen, probably for the hundredth time today. "Katniss, this is the bride's choice. It is your big day! Well, of course his as well, but every girl dreams of the perfect wedding!"

Huh, that's funny. My dreams were always to feed my now dead little sister and MIA mother. I huff and grab the next book. "Fine, let's just finish going through these." I think I know a good method. I'll close my eyes and flip through the pages, then stop at one. That will be my flower. "Hmm…this one. I want this one." I open my eyes to see a mixture of yellow and white.

When I look up at Effie, her hands are clasped and her eyes sparkle. "Oh Katniss, a mixture of Sunflowers and Daisies! Oh, that is absolutely perfect for a summer wedding. Especially outdoor." She pats my cheek as she marks the page. "You have better taste than you realize, dear."

I smile at her. "Thanks Effie. I trust you'll get this all set up, so how about we head to the bakery?" I'll let her think that I picked them on purpose. I don't want to beg, but I really don't want to see anymore books of arrangements for the rest of my life.

"Oh, yes. I am sure he already has all of the testers set up for us," she says as she has me stand up and shuffles me to the door.

"I need to at least get my shoes on!" I shrug off her hold on my shoulders and throw on some easy slip-on shoes, because I know Effie won't give me time to throw on my boots. And then she'd yell at me for wearing my boots out in public. I walk in front of her and open the door. "Now we can go."

Effie has calmed down her appearance a bit by not wearing as much makeup, but she's still Capitol enough to make some people double-take on our walk. Besides the few that stayed here for a bit – though they all pretty much left, including my 'best friend', because they couldn't deal with the conditions, Mockingjay or not – we're not used to it. The entire walk there Effie is still chirping on about the wedding, picking apart every little thing.

When she questions the flowers, I cut in. "No no no, those flowers are perfect. Really. We don't need to look at anymore."

"Oh, but there are so many summer flowers and I just feel-"

"I want those." I can tell that my look shows that I'm not backing down, because she huffs and continues on. It only takes a moment before she's chirping on again. I tune out the rest of the conversation. As much as I like Effie, sometimes it's just too much.

Once we reach the bakery, the first thing I see is that he had closed the bakery for the day. I run to the glass door and pull it open to go inside, and then keep my hand on it for Effie. Peeta's putting some pastries in the display shelf under the counter before looking up at us with a smile. "Effie, Katniss, right on time!"

Effie shuffles over to Peeta as he goes around the counter and pulls him into a hug. "Oh, Peeta! You look absolutely ravishing." She peeks around him and says, "I trust the cakes are done?"

Peeta pulls away and nods. "Of course." He ushers us behind the counter and leads us to the back.

I have never seen so many miniature cakes in one room. There has to be at least twenty of them, all with three tiny forks. They almost look like different colored tarts. I look at him with wide eyes. "You made all of these?" I can't see how it's even possible.

Peeta looks proud when I show my disbelief. "Well, since I only needed to make small ones, I didn't have to use as many ingredients for each recipe, so it's more like an assortment of different cupcakes. I also drew up some different designs we could put on the cake, too." He puts an arm around me and kisses the top of my head. "Go ahead and start on the cakes. Pick a few favorites and we'll go from there. I'll walk you through them as you taste."

I smile and nod, and go to the first cake. I nod for Effie to come over and take a fork so we can start. "All right, what's this?" I pick a little of the cake up on my fork; the frosting and cake are both white.

"This is a simple white cake with a buttercream frosting. It's pretty common, but delicious nonetheless," he says as we stick the forks in our mouths.

Anything he makes is delicious, and this does not disappoint. The cake melts in my mouth and I close my eyes in contentment. Making a choice is going to be really hard. We go through the rest of the cakes, and by the end I'm sure I know which one I want.

"The coffee cake. I like it. Which is weird, since I hate coffee." I scrunch my nose and Effie nods her head, probably considering the cake choice. The cake tastes nothing like the beverage, but perhaps I'd like actual coffee if I put sugar in it.

Peeta laughs. "Good choice, haven't done that one for a wedding before. Now do you like the frosting on it? Or did you want another? We can change anything you want on it." His expression is warm and curious. It almost makes me feel unworthy of his kindness.

I bite my lip and look over at him. "I mean, I like them all…you need to help! It's your wedding too!" I feel like I'm completely taking over and he's doing all of the hard work, not giving his opinion on anything so it won't taint mine. He smiles and opens his mouth, but I cut him off and say, "Peeta, I swear to god if you say it's my choice I will kill you." I glare at him. "You choose the goddamn frosting."

He raises his eyebrows and smirks. "Fine, fine. How about the buttercream? It's always been one of my favorites. The cake will be tiered, as well."

I furrow my brow. "Aren't tiered cakes really big?" I'm suddenly afraid that secret guests are going to be popping up. That will not be okay. Plutarch and I made a deal.

Peeta shrugs and looks down sheepishly. "They're usually at weddings. Like the one at Finnick and Annie's."

The sea cake. The perfect swirls of blues and greens, the first sign that Peeta had not lost himself completely through the hijacking. How everyone had gushed over it. I remember happiness and love. One day to forget all of the pain.

"I want one, too. Tiered, I mean." I smile at him and go give him a hug. "It'll be perfect." I lean in and kiss the side of his face before whispering, "I love you."

He squeezes me once and says it back, before letting go and looking at Effie. "Sound good?"

"Oh yes! It is absolutely delicious." She moves over to us and kisses both of his cheeks. "Now, remind me to call you for my next party! And-" Her phone cuts her off. She holds a finger up and excuses herself before walking to the front.

I sigh and lean back into him. "We're really doing this." His chest rumbles with his laugh.

"We are." He lifts my chin and kisses me softly. "How are you?"

I know he means if I'm still okay with all of this. I hate that he's always worrying that I'm going to walk away, but I understand why he feels that way. With our past, my past, marriage was never on my agenda. Things change, though, and I plan to convince him of that. "I'm good," I pull back and look at him, "I'll stay good, too."

He smiles. "Good, I-"

"They'll be here in the morning!"

We both jump at Effie's loud voice. She comes back into the backroom with a large smile, and if she still had on the usual Capitol makeup I'm sure she would look like a clown. "The bridesmaids will be here bright and early! Don't worry Katniss, I will be sure to wake you up so we can get the dresses!" She starts muttering about the multitude of dresses.

I roll my eyes and smile at Peeta, before moving away. "I'll see you later, so you can open the bakery back up."

He nods. "I'll be home to help with dinner." He looks past me and waves while saying, "Bye Effie!" I turn and realize she's already on her way to the front.

"Goodbye, dear!"

I walk back to her and we leave the bakery, but first I turn the 'closed' sign back to 'open'.

"Now, tablecloths!"

Shit.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there. So, I've decided to whip up my own fanfic on the events between Mockingjay and the epilogue.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. It belongs to Suzanne Collins.


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